


Sweetheart

by Pai813



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flowerfell, Alternate Universe - Underfell, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pai813/pseuds/Pai813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk is pushed down a hole where she meets a talking flower and a raving madwoman. When Frisk dies due to a misunderstanding, she somehow comes back to life . . . but with a flower budding on her body. Confused and afraid, Frisk and her companion Flowey attempt to escape. And who is there to meet them on the other side of the door?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before We Start . . .

K, wanna make a few things clear. Also, warning, this is just an A/N, so continue if you don't wanna read.

This is my version of this story, since I fell in love with the story so much. Yes, I will have a few references to the original AU, and maybe even a few lines, but I promise this is not plagiarism. If you have a problem, let me know. I know that I have technically no right to use other people's works, and I don't want to, so please inform me if anything sounds too much like someone else's work. I don't want to steal, thank you very much.

Also, Frisk is a girl in this, due to the way the story rolls out. Sorry to those who believe them to be a boy, but this is the way it's going and it ain't stopping for no one!

Frisk is almost 18 in this story so you guys don't flip out at me saying it's pedophilia, since Sans is around 20.

Oops, that was a spoiler. Oh well :P

I'm not putting swears in this, even though it's one of the most swear filled AU. BUT I REFUSE!! It's my policy to not write swears, and I've been doing pretty well so far. But I will make it pretty close. Example: "What the --" "Holy --" "Oh my --" blah. There you have it. Those who choose to insert the swears can, but for those who don't want them don't have to have them. 

THERE WILL BE NO SMUT, LEMONS, OR LIMES! Sorry to those looking for that, but I wanna make it clear now, I find that stuff nasty and personal. Imagine if you were being watched during one of those intimate times! Ugh! So no, not happening.

And with that:

:D

Enjoy!


	2. Falling Down a Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is falling down the hole and remembers how she got there.

Falling.

That was the only word she could think of during the disorienting madness. Wind blew from everywhere, her hair flying wildly in her face. Her clothes rippled ferociously, threatening to tear away at any second.

She didn't even realize the tears that were falling until she saw her tears above her head. How could they? No, that wasn't the right question. Why?

She breathed out a sigh and closed her eyes. This was it.

~}-{~

Frisk was sitting before the principal's desk, looking down at her hands. This was the second time that week she had been in there, and it wasn't for anything good.

"Frisk," the principal sighed. "Do you want to explain to me why you're in here again?"

Frisk knew that he already knew the answer to that, but she smiled anyway and said, "Yes, sir, I had been in a fight."

The bruises on her face proved that she was telling the truth, but she left out the part that it was actually bullying.

"And would you like to tell me why you were in a fight?" he asked.

Frisk was silent as her blue eyes remained trained on her hands.

"Don't tell me that it was because you were being bullied," the principal sighed exasperated. "I'm tired of hearing that excuse when it's all a lie."

Frisk inhaled sharply, and felt tears sting her eyes. "Y-yes, sir," she said. "I . . . um . . ."

The principal waited for an answer, but when none came, he gave up. "Why must you always make things so difficult?" he asked frustrated. "You're always causing my son trouble, and every time the both of you have a disagreement, I always have to separate you two from a fight. It's a good thing my son is trained in martial arts, so he knows how to defend himself."

Frisk nodded. "Yes, he is good," she rubbed her sensitive cheek, knowing all too well about his training. He bragged about it quite a bit, and showed her how good he was quite often.

The principal rubbed his eyes. "I'm very tired of this behavior, Frisk," he said, placing his hands firmly on the desk. "I've decided to call your parents about this issue, Frisk--"

"No," Frisk shook her head. "That isn't necessary."

"Don't," the principal shouted. He calmed down. "Don't interrupt me."

He took out a pen and paper and asked, "Now, their numbers aren't in the student directory. Could you please tell me what their numbers are?"

Frisk shook her head.

"Frisk, tell me."

She shook again. "I--"

"Frisk!"

She winced at his loud voice. "I don't know their numbers, sir," she answered. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me what your parent's numbers are now!" he shouted. "Don't make me repeat myself, you liar!"

Frisk sighed. Should she lie and tell some random numbers? But then she really would be considered a liar. It didn't matter, she realized. No matter what she did, she wasn't going to get out of this situation.

"I don't know their numbers, sir," she repeated. She looked up for the first time during the conversation and looked directly in the man's eyes. "I'm sorry."

~}-{~

Frisk was cornered again by none other than Damian, the principal's son. His long blond hair was tied back and his blue eyes were cruel. Frisk shivered, wondering how she had gotten into this mess.

She had been casually taking a hike in the mountains when he and his group cut her off. When she ignored them and continued walking, one taunted, "Hey Frisk! Aren't you gonna stay for a while?"

"Yeah, Frisk," Damian grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Aren't you excited to know more about us?"

She smiled and gently removed his hand from her face, beginning to turn away. "Hey there, sweetheart," Damian put a hand on her right shoulder. "We heard about the talk you had with the principal. He seemed rather upset, really, since you kept lying to him."

"You and I both know I don't lie--" she began, but was cut off by a slap.

As her cheek was swelling yet again, Damian thundered, "DON'T-- Don't talk back."

_This seems oddly familiar,_ Frisk thought. _Like father like son, I suppose._ But she said nothing. She decided it was probably best not to rile him up more than he already was; he just needed to let off some steam.

Damian seemed to come up with an idea. "Oh, that's rich," he chuckled. "That's so, _so_ rich."

"What is it, Damian?" one boy asked.

Damian only smiled and looked at the other boys. "Hey, do you remember what we learned today in class?"

One by one, the boys started to smile too, only one of them seeming lost still. Although, he didn't seem that bright to begin with.

Damian whirled back around and suddenly grabbed Frisk's arms. Alarmed, she attempted to raise her arms and block her face, only to have them roughly jerked forward. "Someone grab her legs!" Damian yelled.

A shorter boy grabbed onto her legs, and she kicked out trying to free herself without harming the boy. It was in vain, for their grips were like iron. She yelled for help, and received a chuckle from Damian.

"Scream all you like, Frisk!" he said. "But no one will hear you this far out!"

She knew it was true, but yet she still tried. No one came.

The group made their way all the way up the mountain, Frisk in their arms. How they managed to carry her that far made no sense to Frisk, but seeing how she was shorter than most average girls, the less weight the better.

A large, dark hole was spread out before the group, almost like a void to some unknown realm, beckoning the light to be absorbed. Frisk's eyes widened at the prospect that they might actually throw her into the hole, but right before they reached the hole, she was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, brushing off the dirt and leaves from her purple and blue sweater.

"Frisk, Frisk, Frisk," Damian shook his head. "You know why I hate you, yeah?"

Frisk shook her head.

He grabbed her again, pain shooting up her arm. _Well, now I know there's going to be a bruise._

"I hate you because you care," he said, smiling wide. "Because you care so much as to lie about caring."

Frisk gave him a sincere smile. "I don't lie about caring."

He shook her. "Tell me you're lying!"

"No."

He let go, and out of the corner of her eye, Frisk noticed one of the followers frown. He seemed hesitant, making Frisk's hope grow. Maybe not everyone here hated her.

Damian yelled at the sky, turning in circles. He suddenly stopped and threw a finger in Frisk's direction. "You know what? I've had enough of you."

He pushed her toward the hole, Frisk barely keeping her balance. She paled, and scurried away from the hole only to have Damian pull her back. "Please let me go!" she shouted.

"H-hey, Damian," the hesitant boy stuttered. "Maybe we should let her go . . ."

"What the--" Damian threw Frisk to the ground. "You're siding with _her_ now?!"

"N-no, it's just--"

Damian gripped the other boy's shirt. "You wanna join her?"

The boy shuddered in Damian's hold, looking down at the ground in shame. "No . . ."

"That's what I thought," Damian released the hesitant boy and turned his attention back to Frisk. He crouched down so he was eyelevel with her and said, "I'm tired, Frisk. Aren't you? All the banters and all the fights . . . I think it's time we just . . ."

He gripped her shoulder and her eyes widened. "Let each other go."

And with that, she was shoved over the edge of the hole.

~}-{~

_FWUMP!_

Frisk landed on something soft that slowed her momentum and gently placed her on the ground. Opening her eyes cautiously, she looked up, coming face to face with a buttercup.

"Are you alright?" someone asked.

She groaned and sat up, wondering who spoke. "Hello?" she asked, looking about in confusion. She was lying in a patch of yellow buttercups. All around her were broken gray pillars and dark cave walls. A few tunnels could be seen further into the cave, but Frisk still couldn't see anyone. Maybe they were hidden by the darkness?

"Down here," the voice said again.

She looked down, but could only see buttercups.

"AHEM!" the voice cleared his throat. That's when Frisk noticed one buttercup different from the rest. He had a _face._

Knowing it to be rude to yell at someone's face, she squelched her urge to scream. "H-hello," she said looking down at the flower.

He smiled up at her. "Howdy! I'm Flowey!"

"O-oh," she smiled back. "I'm Frisk."

Flowey blushed. "Golly, you're really nice, aren'tcha."

Frisk was surprised by the comment. "Well, I suppose I am . . ."

"Glad I saved you!" he said. "Otherwise I'd be all alone in this --"

BOOM! Something sounded like it had been dropped in one of the tunnels and it echoed off the cave walls.

"Oh no," Flowey murmured. "Quick, hide!"

"What's wrong--"

"WHO'S THERE!?" a loud female voice resounded.

Flowey ducked down under the buttercups and was lost from sight. Frisk, on the other hand, had no idea what was happening, so she stayed frozen in place.

Heavy footsteps tromped down the tunnel until a goat-looking woman with white fur and crazy yellow and red eyes came into view. "Oh my," she grinned showing off large fangs. She clapped two paws together. "A human has fallen!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's the end of the first chapter! I should really be going to sleep . . .


	3. Momma Goat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Flowey follow Toriel deeper into the Ruins. Meeting of Napstablook. Eventually, Frisk realizes they need to escape before Toriel kills them.

Frisk hesitantly held out her delicate hand for the monster to take. Without warning, the monster yanked Frisk to her feet, gaining a small yelp from the small girl.

"Hello, my child," the woman smiled down at Frisk with an almost possessive grin. "I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins."

Frisk gave the woman a hesitant smile in return, unsure of what to think of her. "Ah, um, I'm Frisk," she said.

Toriel's smile grew, if that was possible. In a way, her smile almost looked like a sneer. "Frisk! What a beautiful name, and rightly so for a beautiful child."

Frisk's brows furrowed at being called a child for the second time. She was almost eighteen, so why . . .? Maybe it was because of how short she was. Looking down at her purple and blue sweater and shorts that almost touched her knees, she had to agree that she did look a bit childish. Maybe the next time she went to the store, she would have to buy some new clothes, ones that might make her more feminine . . .

"Follow me, my child," Toriel said, gripping Frisk's hand tighter. Toriel's paws had sharp claws at the end that dug into Frisk's soft skin, making Frisk resist the urge to yelp again. "I will help you."

"Where are we going?" Frisk asked. There was no answer.

Frisk let Toriel lead her along, since she could do little else. The monster's hands were plush and yet hard as steel. She glanced back once, wondering where the strange flower named Flowey went. It startled her a bit that the friendly flower had looked so scared . . .

"This way, my child," the goat monster pulled Frisk along a beaten gravel path. Frisk tripped a few times, but every time she fell, Toriel was there to yank her along. Frisk's arm started to hurt after a while, but there wasn't anything she could do, unless she somehow managed to chop off her arm. _Now that's a morbid thought._

Frisk wondered who this woman was. Was she just being polite to a guest? Or was she upset at Frisk since the girl had practically crashed into her garden? Maybe the monster was thinking of devouring Frisk as soon as they . . . reached whatever destination they were headed to.

Frisk shook off that last thought. Yes, Toriel had a few things here and there that seemed . . . off to Frisk, but she seemed nice overall. Well, aside from the fact that the woman was tearing her arm from it's socket and forcing her to heaven knows where.

They turned again for the seventh time, and it was starting to get darker since they left the skylight so far behind. Frisk worried that they eventually wouldn't be able to see. She had always had a fear of blindness. It just left people too vulnerable. And the darkness . . . that was worse.

"I just need to pick something up," Toriel suddenly said, dropping Frisk's arm and looking down at her with an anxious look. "Please, don't leave this spot, my child. It's dangerous down here; you never know who might want to hurt you. I'll only be gone for a few minutes."

Frisk promised not to leave her spot and sat down in the tunnel. The darkness around her started to make her shiver. She curled her legs to her chest and set her chin on her knees. She started to mumble a silent song, the lyrics soothing her a little.

Something shuffled to her right, and she jumped. "Who's there?" she asked, voice shaking.

"It's okay, it's just me," a familiar voice said at ground level. Frisk could faintly see the outline of yellow petals and she sighed in relief.

"Don't scare me like that," she said, moving back into her comfortable position.

"Sorry," Flowey murmured. It was silent for a moment, save for the dripping of water further down the cavernous tunnel and the occasional wail of a monster. Every time there was a loud sound, Frisk jumped, letting out little puffs of air after every one.

"Hey," Flowey spoke up, trying to start a conversation. "So . . . why didn't you hide like I told you to?"

"I . . . uh," Frisk scratched her head. "I didn't know what was going on. Plus, it wasn't like I could hide anywhere, unless I was a flower."

"Oh, uh, yeah," Flowey chuckled nervously. "Well, um, just don't get too close to Toriel."

"Why's that?"

"Because she . . ." Flowey sighed. "Well, just trust me on this one."

Frisk raised her eyebrows, though she doubted Flowey could see it. She let the matter drop; it was clearly a touchy subject for the flower, though she didn't know why.

"So, would it be alright if I came with you?" Flowey asked hesitantly. "Only for your protection, of course."

Frisk smiled. The little yellow flower was starting to grow on her, though he still left her with a lot of questions. "I think that would be alright," she said.

Flowey sighed, "Well, that's good. That's good. You don't know what's out there; I can be like a guide."

"Exactly," Frisk giggled.

"A-and I can keep out of sight well, so people won't bother you about me."

"Of course."

Silence returned to the pair.

Frisk wondered what Flowey's story was. He seemed to know a lot, but a flower's life was only so long before it wilted. Something was different about him, something that Frisk was determined to find out.

Toriel's heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the tunnel. Flowey let out a startled gasp and said, "I need to hide somewhere, fast!"

Frisk looked around, not being able to see much. "Um . . . how about somewhere on me?" she asked.

"Like _where_?" Flowey began to whisper as Toriel came closer.

Frisk patted down her outfit, but, gosh darnit, those stupid shorts had such small pockets they wouldn't be able to hold anything. Her boots weren't exactly going to cover it, and her sweater was small enough that Toriel would see the bulge.

Then she had an idea. "Quick, tuck yourself behind my ear."

"What?"

"Just do it!"

Flowey did what he was told, carefully tangling his roots in the girl's hair and balancing his head on her ear. "Like this?" he asked.

"Perfect," she muttered, smile forming. "Just, close your eyes and don't say anything."

"Okay . . ."

"FRISK!" Toriel shouted. Frisk winced at the loud noise. "You're still here, yes?"

"I'm right here," Frisk said.

"Oh, thank goodness," Toriel dropped something large and wrapped Frisk into a warm hug while Flowey let out a soft hiss. Luckily, Toriel didn't hear it. She squeezed Frisk tighter, then let go to get a better look at Frisk, though how she could see in this darkness was a mystery to Frisk. Toriel tucked Frisk's hair behind her other ear and smiled. Though that smile slowly disappeared upon glancing at Flowey. Frisk started to sweat, wondering what would happen next. Would she ask about him? Would she take him away? Would she kill him?

"Let's get going," Toriel said, surprising Frisk. Wasn't she going to ask? Toriel picked up the . . . thing she had dropped and gripped Frisk's hand again. The thing in Toriel's left arm must have been a bag of some kind, and large enough to hold a full grown human. The bag was filled with something, but Frisk wasn't eager to find out what.

Flowey let out a soft puff of air that tickled Frisk's ear. "Are you alright?" Frisk mumbled.

"Yeah," Flowey breathed. "That was a little scary, though. I thought she was going to kill me."

"Did you say something, dear?" Toriel asked, looking back.

"No, nothing," Frisk said nervously. It was getting darker, and Frisk was starting to panic. What if it got too dark? What if she was led too far in, and in a state of emergency, couldn't find her way out? What if--

Up ahead, Frisk saw light. Hope blossomed in her chest, and she quickened her pace, almost passing Toriel. "My child, you must wait!"

Frisk pulled from Toriel's grasp, not an easy feat, and ran to the light. "Frisk!" Flowey hissed. "You might want to listen to the goat monster on this one."

Frisk ignored him and stumbled into a small cave, glowing crystals dotting the ceiling. "Wow, they're beautiful," Frisk gawked. Turning to get a full view, she saw purple, blue, and red crystals that lit up a brown cave, a few leaves scattered here and there.

"Frisk!" Frisk heard Toriel call from down the tunnel. Frisk waved to let her know she was there, but Toriel had a panicked look on her face. "Frisk, look out!"

Frisk's first instinct was to duck, and rightly so. A sharp object sailed over her head and into the cave wall behind her. On closer inspection, the object looked almost like a tear, but Frisk didn't have long to observe due to the large gash now in her arm. Another tear-like object impaled itself into the cave wall.

"Ouch!" Frisk touched her arm and whirled around to find the owner of the sharp objects. Not four feet away from the human stood--or more like _floated_ \--a ghost. The ghost looked like one of those cartoon ghosts that were meant to be silly, but with the dark red eyes and the jagged teeth, Frisk didn't think this ghost was about to break into song or fall down some stairs for her amusement.

"How. DARE. You!" the ghost wailed. Bright red tears formed along his red eyes, his lower lip trembling. "Do you even KNOW who I am?!"

Frisk shook her head, her arm beginning to sting badly. Blood dripped from the wound and created a small puddle near her feet.

"NAPSTABLOOK does NOT have trespassers wandering WILLY NILLY into his property!" he yelled. 

Flowey still hadn't moved, but he eyed Frisk's arm with slight concern. Should he do something about it? But what if he was caught? He wouldn't really be much help if he was.

A few more tear-shaped objects were formed, and Frisk backed up against the wall like a cornered mouse.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Toriel boomed, demanding attention. Napstablook, or at least that's what Frisk thought his name was, whipped around to face the heavy-breathing goat woman. His tear-weapons faced her, but when he saw who it was, they immediately dropped to the ground.

"That's my human!" Toriel frowned in disapproval and pulled Frisk to her feet. Toriel noticed the deep cut on Frisk's arm and frowned deeper, glaring hard at Napstablook.

"Forgive me, mi'lady," Napstablook bowed in submission, face contorted into fear. Frisk's stomach twisted. If someone this scary was afraid of Toriel, then shouldn't she be afraid as well? "I-I didn't know--"

"Get out of my sight!" Toriel commanded. Napstablook was quick to comply, and quickly dashed away, leaving two tear-weapons behind to quickly evaporate.

Toriel huffed. "Honestly," she shook her fluffy head. "I wonder why that menace hasn't left this place. I've already warned him countless times . . .

"But that doesn't matter right now!" Toriel beamed, sending a shiver down Frisk's spine. She took Frisk's arm and examined it carefully. "Well now, this shouldn't be a problem," the goat monster said. She took out a roll of gauze and began to wrap Frisk's arm.

"Do you always carry gauze with you?" Frisk wondered.

Toriel smiled. "Well, only on some days," she said. "Like today, I had to pick up some . . . supplies, so it was necessary."

Frisk blushed, realizing she had voiced her thoughts aloud, making Toriel laugh. "Come on, now," Toriel said, grabbing Frisk's other arm. "We must hurry."

~}-{~

Toriel and Frisk entered a small tunnel leading out into a giant catacomb, more crystals dotting the ceiling above. In the center of the open cave sat a small, lone home. Toriel smiled down at Frisk, her sharp teeth showing. "Almost there, child," she said. Ever since the incident with Napstablook, the woman hadn't let Frisk out of her sight, and her grip on Frisk's arm seemed tighter, if that were possible.

Frisk tried to look at Flowey, who was still tucked behind her ear, face neutral. Flowey still hadn't said anything to her, and she wondered if everything was alright with her friend.

Friend. She smiled at the thought. Frisk had never really had _friends_ before, not true ones. Due to living where she was . . . and due to her past . . . she never felt the need to get close to people. Sure, she was nice to them, but getting close just meant more heartache for everyone. So, in order to protect her feelings and the feelings of others, she refused to make friends with anyone.

But, coming down here, and meeting the friendly flower Flowey, Frisk began to realise she enjoyed the flower's presence. She kind of liked the feeling.

Toriel led Frisk all the way up to the front door of the little home, the giant, open purple door looking inviting and the open windows letting out the smell of pies baking. "This is your home now," Toriel said, looking down at Frisk to see her reaction.

Frisk's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I can't do that--"

"Nonsense!" Toriel laughed. "You are my child now, so there shouldn't be a problem!"

Frisk felt very uncomfortable about the situation. How would the orphanage feel about this? Frisk smiled anyways. "Thank you," she said, and meant it.

The bag slung over Toriel's shoulder began moving, starling Frisk. Whatever was inside was _alive._

"Oh, don't worry, my child." Toriel threw the bag to the ground, and something liquid began to leak out of the bag. "It is simply the supplies I gathered earlier."

Toriel dragged the bag inside, leaving Frisk outside with a streak of the liquid leading into the house. The liquid looked red in the lighting, and Frisk felt for certain it was blood. What else could it possibly be?!

"Frisk, calm down, it's okay," Flowey said. He too, was panicking a bit, but Frisk was hyperventilating.

"W-wh-what do you think is in that bag?" Frisk stuttered.

Flowey shrugged his leaves, though he doubted Frisk could see it. "I don't know, but we should get out of here as fast as we can."

"G-good idea," Frisk said, turning away from the house.

"Frisk!" Toriel called. Frisk froze. "Frisk, come inside! I don't want you to catch a cold~"

Frisk took a deep breath and exhaled, wondering just how stupid she could get. "Alright, fine," she mumbled. "I'll leave when she's asleep or something . . ."

Frisk marched inside the home and closed the door gently behind her. Inside, the home was just as welcoming as the outside. Everything screamed perfection, and Frisk felt unnerved by that. Flowey looked around too, memories surfacing from old times. He shivered, making Frisk giggle at the unexpected vibration. He smiled too, if only from her presence. She made him feel safer, less like a . . . nobody.

In front of them was a staircase leading to a basement, chained off and securely locked. Yellow flowers were everywhere, in pots, hanging from the simple chandelier, and curled around the handrail of the staircase.

Two hallways went in different directions to Frisk's left and right. To the left, Frisk could see a table with three chairs and another yellow flower in a pot. Down the other hallway were three doors and more flowers, and a mirror at the end.

"Looks like you'd fit right in," Frisk commented to Flowey. He chuckled, noticing the odd home decor as well.

"Frisk! Come help me with this, child!" Toriel's voice called from down the left hallway. Frisk sighed and took the hall on the left.

Pictures lined the walls of the hallway. Some of the pictures were of Toriel and some other monsters, but a few of them caught Frisk off guard. Nearer to the end, Frisk saw some pictures of Toriel and _human children_. The children didn't look happy in the pictures; in fact they looked terrified. But Toriel was smiling her signature smile like everything was fine. Frisk's blue eyes widened at the very last one, a child screaming at the camera while Toriel's back was turned, knife raised above her head.

"I told you she couldn't be trusted," Flowey said.

Frisk nodded, her breathing becoming labored again. "Calm down," Flowey chided. "Otherwise you'll tip her off. Just play it cool. Act like you don't know what's going on."

Frisk nodded, slowing her breathing and moving on into the living room. The table was still there, with the yellow flower in place, but now she could see the full room.

A large, plush chair sat next to a roaring fire, the fireplace barely big enough to contain the flames. A felt rug was laid out before the fire, stripe patterns like the ones on Frisk's sweater lying diagonal on the rug. A lone, small bookcase stood in the corner, the books old and worn, and next to it was the irons for the fireplace, the instruments looking very sharp.

Frisk moved on to the next room when she didn't spot Toriel. The kitchen, Frisk assumed, was even smaller. There was a fridge, a sink, a counter, and a stove, the latter looking as if it hadn't been used since it was installed.

Toriel was standing over the sink, a knife in hand and a piece of meat being washed over the running water. Frisk gulped, wondering where the bag disappeared to in the short amount of time she and Flowey had walked into the house.

"Oh, there you are, my child," Toriel set down the meat and knife on the counter and walked over to Frisk. Frisk tried not to flinch as the monster got closer, knowing what would happen if she did. But she couldn't help it, and Toriel stopped halfway to the girl. "Frisk? Is everything alright?"

Should she lie and tell the goat monster everything was okay? Or should she run away as fast and far as she could? She didn't want to hurt the woman's feelings, but after seeing those pictures . . . Frisk didn't want to stay here anymore.

Toriel noticed the hesitation and pouted. "Frisk, whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry."

Frisk's heart broke and she gasped. "No, no, I didn't mean--"

Toriel held out her soft hand once more to Frisk. "Come with me," she said. "I would like to show you something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, chapter done!  
> I love the feedback, and I appreciate honesty! XD  
> I just realized how long this chapter was. I still had more, so I split it up into two. Don't worry, we'll get to the dying soon >:)


	4. SOULS and Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Flowey see something they regret seeing. Toriel becomes upset when Frisk leaves. First death.

Toriel led Frisk down the left hallway, passing the pictures of the frightened children on the wall and beelining for the first door of the right hallway. Frisk’s hand was yet again trapped in Toriel’s massive, fluffy hands, the feeling of her claws biting into soft skin feeling too familiar. The hallway seemed to go on forever, almost as if it had elongated in the short amount of time it took Frisk to walk in on Toriel.

A slight draft from the open windows made Frisk shiver, the smell of mildew and old cave carrying on the wind. What was Toriel going to show them? Would it be some horrific thing? Fear prickled Frisk’s chest, and she almost felt like pulling away from the goat monster. But she didn’t.

Flowey sucked in a sharp breath. _Is something wrong?_ If she could have seen his face, she'd have noticed his horrified expression. Flowey pulled slightly on Frisk’s hair, trying to get away but soon stopped and relaxed.

Toriel stopped before the first door, not letting go of Frisk's hand. "This is my children's room," she said, "where all my children stay. You will stay here, too."

Frisk felt Flowey squirm in her hair. "Well, um, I appreciate it." Frisk gave an unconvincing smile, but Toriel didn't seem to notice.

Toriel opened the door, and Frisk saw a hastily cleaned children's room, some toys sticking out of a box at the foot of the bed.

Frisk looked at Toriel, confused. Was she supposed to go in? Say something?

Toriel rubbed Frisk's head, making Frisk slightly uncomfortable. "This is your home, now," she purred. "And you won't leave me, right?"

Frisk's eyes softened. Maybe Toriel was just lonely. Frisk frowned slightly. Toriel had probably been down here for so long, so afraid, with no one to talk to.

Although that didn't excuse the creepy pictures. Or the bag.

Toriel sighed. "Well, just . . . make yourself at home, and when you're ready, come help me with something in the kitchen."

Frisk nodded, and Toriel ran back to the kitchen, leaving Flowey and Frisk alone. She walked into the bedroom and locked the door.

Frisk sighed and reached up to grab Flowey. "You okay?" she asked when he allowed her to touch him. He curled his roots around her hand and took a shaky breath.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think so."

Frisk pursed her lips knowing full well he was not okay. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he put a leaf to his forehead. "Just . . . nostalgic, I guess."

"Nostalgic?"

Flowey looked up at her and smiled falsely. "Don't worry about me right now. We should probably heal you up." He gestured to Frisk's arm, which was still bandaged in Toriel's gauze.

Frisk examined it and shook it around. "No, I think it's ok—"

"Frisk." Flowey's voice shook. She looked back to the flower, who was teary-eyed and trying hard to keep it together. "Please, just . . . let me take my mind off of things right now."

Frisk nodded and sat on the floor.

While Flowey inspected her arm, Frisk looked around the room—a quaint place. A twin-sized bed leaned against one wall and a small desk against the other. A wardrobe sat next to the bed, one door ajar, giving Frisk a nice view of green and yellow sweaters and a few shorts that were bundled at the bottom.

Had Toriel cleaned the room before Frisk came in? In a way, it was a little sweet, but curious, too. Why would Toriel need to clean up so fast? Frisk could have helped, and then they could have talked and gotten to know each other. But instead, she hurriedly did it herself. Maybe she wanted to be a proper host?

Frisk smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she noticed something peeking out from under the bed.

"Flowey?" Frisk whispered.

"What?" Flowey asked, leaves wrapped around Frisk's arm with a few white pellets floating in the air. "What's wrong?"

Frisk pointed a shaky finger at the bed, making Flowey turn in the direction. "What is it?" he asked, looking around at the bed. "I don't see any—"

"It's a _shoe_ ," Frisk whispered. "A bloody shoe!"

The shoe was about the size of a small adult's or a large child's, its heel sticking out from under the bed, blood splattered on it.

Flowey's eyes widened. "You don't think—"

"I don't know," Frisk's lower lip trembled. "But I'm . . . scared."

"Frisk . . ."

"I want to think that she's a good person, but I just don't know . . ."

"Frisk, listen to me," Flowey put his . . . leaves on Frisk's hand.  "It-it'll be okay. Probably. I wasn't joking when I said that I was going to protect you."

Frisk smiled weakly, but she knew that one little flower couldn’t protect her. No, she'd . . . she'd have to step up to the plate and protect her brave little friend. "Thanks, Flowey."

Flowey smiled back and went back to Frisk's arm. "So, what are those?" Frisk asked, pointing to the pellets in the air.

"Oh, they're for healing," Flowey said. "Watch."

One pellet moved slowly to Frisk's arm and was instantly absorbed. Frisk's eyes widened when the wound on her arm began to slowly seal up. "See?"

"Whoa," Frisk touched her arm, but quickly removed her hand when she felt stinging. "Ouch!"

"It's not completely healed up yet," Flowey grumbled. More pellets moved for the wound, and Frisk looked back to the bed.

What was a shoe—a bloody _shoe_ —doing half-stuffed under the bed?

Frisk started to make her way over to the bed, hearing a few grumbles from Flowey. She hesitantly pulled the shoe out with her pointer finger. "Ew . . . " she whispered, getting a little blood on her finger. She wiped it on her sweater.

The shoe wasn't special—aside from the blood, of course. It was a simple black Mary Jane, size three children's. Frisk felt something inside and shook the shoe, hearing a small _thump_ near the toe of the shoe. She tipped it carefully upside-down and shook the object out. Maybe it was a clue, or a hint, or something.

Suddenly Frisk shrieked, face paling quickly. There, sitting on the floor, was a toe. There was literally a toe in the toe of the shoe.

"Shh!" Flowey put a leaf to Frisk's mouth. They were silent, listening for Toriel. All they heard was the water running in the kitchen and happy humming.

"Flowey!" Frisk said when Flowey removed his leaf. Tears began to fall from Frisk's face. "I don't know if I can take this anymore! I-I just—"

"Hey!" Flowey grabbed Frisk's face in his leaves, forcing Frisk to look at him. "It'll be okay. We'll get out of this." He smiled. "I don't want to be here anymore than you do."

Frisk sniffled. "Yeah," she rubbed her nose on her sleeve. "Yeah, you're right. We _will_ get out of here. _Alive_."

And she was determined to make it happen.

~}-{~

Flowey suggested Frisk get some rest after the rough day. Frisk agreed, but only if he'd sleep next to her. He looked quite shocked to hear her say that but sighed and grumbled a silent "Okay . . ."

She’d only asked because she was afraid something would happen to him. So, there they were, Flowey cuddled up in Frisk's hair and Frisk laying in the twin bed, trying hard to sleep.

After about ten minutes of restlessness, Frisk gave up and looked at the room. The shoe had been shoved under the bed, along with the toe, and Frisk didn't dare look at either while cramming.

Frisk just didn't get it, though. Why did Toriel have that bag? And why was there a shoe with toe under the bed? She got the feeling that Toriel was hiding something. Something bad.

Frisk turned over, still thinking. The wall was right in her face, which, for some reason, gave her a bit of comfort.

The smell of this room wasn't any better. Sweaty clothes, rotting flesh, and perfume. Not exactly the top three things that Frisk wanted the room to smell like; she'd have prefered a _normal_ smell.

Frisk sighed. Was anything going to be normal anymore? She was in a world of monsters and scary things.

 _Of course, you were in a world of monsters before,_ the dark side of her mind whispered.

 _Shut up,_ she thought. _I don't want to think about that right now._

 _But this isn't the first time that you've seen dead remains, is it,_ Frisk _?_

"I said shut up!" Frisk scolded.

Flowey stirred. "Huh? You say something?"

Frisk gasped. "Oh, ah, nothing. Keep sleeping."

"Okaaaay . . ." Flowey drawled, already half asleep.

Frisk giggled softly. Turning back to the wall, she tried to figure everything out.

"Wait a minute," she murmured. "What is that?"

Inching her face a bit closer so her nose was almost touching, she inspected the small scratchings on the wall.

_If you are reading this, then you're lucky, it read. I've been here for such a long time . . . she doesn't even recognize her own child . . . Don't trust . . . please, help me . . . She's been making these meat pies, and I'm pretty sure they're made from the other children . . . I can't get through to her anymore . . . she won't listen . . ._

Some of the words were either too small or were too old, and Frisk couldn't read them. At the very bottom, the last bit of the message read:

_So, this is how it ends, huh? Well, I wouldn't have expected better. Toriel has been my mother for so long . . . but ever since Asriel died, she hasn't been the same. To whoever reads this, please, don't trust her. Otherwise, you'll end up like me._

_signed,_

_C_

Frisk shot up in the bed, making Flowey shout. "What is it? What's wrong?!" he said half in Frisk's hair and half on her shoulder. "What's going on?"

"F-Flowey, we need to leave," Frisk said, jumping out of the bed. That was the last straw.

"Frisk?!"

"Come on!"

Frisk swung open the door to reveal Toriel with a large smile on her face. Frisk gulped and backed away.

"Oh, hello Frisk!" Toriel held up a gross looking pie with something red drizzled on top. "I made you a pie, and I was hoping you could help me with the rest of them."

"Th-the rest of what?" Frisk stuttered.

"The other pies, dear!" Toriel laughed. "What did you think I meant?"

Frisk smiled nervously. "Of course that's what you meant."

There was a moment of silence, except for some bubbling in the kitchen and Frisk's shuffling feet. "W-well," Toriel said, clearing her throat. She set the pie down on the floor in front of Frisk. "When you're ready to help . . . you know where I am."

Frisk nodded, and Toriel left swiftly. Flowey whispered in Frisk's ear, "What now?"

"Um . . ." Frisk looked down at the pie, then into the children's room. "I think we should get out of here."

Flowey smiled. "That's what I've been saying since the beginning."

Frisk stepped over the pie and made her way to the front door cautiously. She heard a grunt from the kitchen as Toriel broke something, a loud snapping sound resonating through the small house. Frisk swallowed and took another step forward.

She opened the front door carefully, the hinges creaking and the wood aching. Frisk winced. "Please don't hear me, please don't hear me, please don't hear me . . ."

And then she was home free. She smiled, feeling Flowey relax in her hair. She closed the door behind her and started to run.

~}-{~

It was February 2nd, 200X. Frisk had just been tucked into bed and was almost asleep when she heard a shout from downstairs. Leaping out of bed, she rushed down the stairs, fearing the worst.

"Mommy?" she called.

"Baby, run!" her mom screamed and something fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Mom?!"

Suddenly her father ran up the stairs. "Frisk," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I need you to go, right now."

"W-why, what's h―"

"Frisk!" he shook her. "Listen to me, right now. There’s someone here―someone who is trying to hurt us―and if you don't run away, he's going to hurt you."

"B-but," Frisk tried to look around him and down the stairs, but his bulk was too large. "What about you? And mommy?"

"Don't worry about us," her father smiled. "It'll be okay."

There was a shout from down the stairs, "Honey! He's too strong! The door can't handle it!"

"Go, now!" her father pushed her back up the stairs, sending her to her butt. She scrambled to her feet and started to run up the stairs before looking back once, to see her father jump over the railing.

Little did she know that would be the last time she would see either of them.

And so she had run. Back up the stairs to the fire escape, and then out into the streets. Still barefoot and in her pajamas, she ran. She ran until she collapsed in front of a police station. And then still ran in her dreams, fearing what was coming, fearing the dark, fearing the man who was coming for her and her loved ones.

Fear . . .

 

Frisk stumbled on a rock and fell flat on her face. They were almost back to the crystal room where they met Napstablook.

"Are you alright?" Flowey asked in a muffled tone.

Frisk sat up, shaken by the memories. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Um . . ." Frisk wiped her face. "Yeah. Maybe."

"Frisk . . ."

"It's okay!" Frisk rose to her feet fast, leaving her a bit dizzy, but also leaving a feeling of determination. “We should keep moving.”

"Where are we going, exactly?" Flowey asked as he moved to Frisk's arm, no longer needing to hide from Toriel. Frisk still didn't understand why.

"I thought you would tell me. You've been here longer, so you should know a way out, right?"

Flowey was silent. Frisk looked down at him, noticing his guilty expression. "What? What's the matter?"

"Well, um . . ."

"WHO'S THERE?!" a loud voice called from down the tunnel.

Frisk's head snapped to look up, and there, floating in front of the pair, was Napstablook, looking just as angry as last time only his eyes were darting around, probably looking for Toriel.

"Oh, it's YOU," the ghost sneered. "Look here, I don't want any monsters lighting me up, so just stay away from me, okay?"

Frisk felt Flowey slide off of her arm. "Frisk, um . . ."

"What is it?"

"I don't mean to be a let down . . ."

"Flowey?"

Flowey sighed. "Well, the only exit from the Ruins is in Toriel's basement."

Frisk shook her head. "Sorry? The . . . only exit?"

Flowey nodded.

"Well, that's all FINE and DANDY," Napstablook said. "But could you PLEASE get off my property, before that crazy lady comes back, huh?"

Frisk looked at Napstablook. Something didn't add up with the ghost. He looked . . . fragile. Broken. Barely keeping it together. She knew that look, since she had worn it before. Only, he was dealing with it in an act of violence, where she had dealt with it in kindness.

"Napstablook?" Frisk asked timidly.

"WHAT!"

Frisk flinched. She hated loud noises. Always had.

"Listen to me," Frisk edged closer to the ghost, who promptly made two tear-shaped weapons. "Listen to me. I'm trying to escape. Can you help me?"

Napstablook scoffed. "My help? Why would you need _my_ help?"

Frisk smiled. "Because I have nothing to defend myself with."

Napstablook shook his head. "No, you're just like all those other kids who tried to get away from Toriel. All just using me to get away. All just _lying_. And for what? So they wouldn't die, right? So they wouldn't have their SOULS taken away?"

Frisk's eyebrows lowered in confusion. "What?"

"Well, forget it," Napstablook ignored her. "I ain't helping a no-good human. Not when my life's on the line."

Napstablook raised a weapon to strike and Frisk closed her eyes . . . but felt nothing. "Wait," she heard the ghost cry. "Wait, wait, WAIT! I meant nothing by it! I swear! Please don't kill me!"

Then heat surged through the tunnel, making Frisk gasp. Her eyes shot wide open to see Napstablook engulfed in magical flames and screaming. Frisk didn't know how a ghost could die of fire, but it was horrible to see.

 

Toriel came up behind Frisk, making Flowey jump into Frisk's hair unceremoniously. "Are you alright, my child?" Toriel asked, searching for damage.

"I'm all right," Frisk said in a daze after just witnessing a murder.

"Oh, how dare he," Toriel fumed. Literally. Her hand burst into flames. "Kidnapping you, and trying to hurt you . . ."

"He wasn't going to hurt me," Frisk said, bringing Toriel's attention back to her. "Well, he was when you arrived, but he didn't kidnap me―"

"Uh, Frisk?” Flowey whispered. "You might wanna keep the ruse. Otherwise she might hurt _you_."

"I'm not going to tarnish a man's grave in lies, Flowey," she murmured back.

"It doesn't matter! He's already dead!" Flowey corrected himself, "Well, for the second time now . . ."

"You," Toriel's eyes were shadowed. "You . . . _weren't_ kidnapped?"

Frisk backed away. "Uh, no?"

"So," Toriel came closer. "You were . . . running away?"

Toriel lifted up her head, tears falling down her face. "You were _leaving_ me? Just like the others? Just like . . . Asriel?"

Frisk's face fell and she hung her head, feeling guilty. "I-I'm sorry, Toriel," she said. "I was scared―"

"AGH!" Toriel raised her hand to strike Frisk, flames dancing in both hands. Frisk screamed and dodged the hand, backpedalling to a safer distance.

"Frisk, look out!" Flowey shouted.

Frisk ducked, but sadly, this time it was not the right call. Pain erupted on her right side and she screamed. Fire covered her torso, and raced up to her face. All she could see was red, and all she could feel was the biting pain of the flames.

"WHY?!" Toriel cried. "WHY MUST YOU LEAVE ME?! WHY WHY WHY WHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?!?!?" With every "why", Toriel shot another blast of fire at the poor girl, the screams making anyone in a mile radius cover their ears in pain.

Flowey had jumped off a long time ago, fearing for his own life, but now regretted leaving Frisk alone. As he watched his friend burning alive, he began to cry. Why did this happen? Why couldn't he help even one person?

And suddenly, the screams stopped, and all that was left was a charred corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm so happy people are reading this!  
> Well, and even if it's just out of boredom, that's okay too!  
> So, we're getting into the murders. ~(-_-~) Time for some more violence! XD


	5. Buttercups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk finds out about the buttercups.

Frisk shot up in bed, screaming.

"Frisk!" Flowey shouted. "Stop! It's okay! You're okay!"

Frisk was back in Toriel's house, lying in the children's bedroom. Flowey was sitting in her lap, stroking her leg comfortingly. "Hey, it's okay," he said.

Frisk breathed heavily. "W-what?" she looked around the room, confused. "W-how-what?"

"I don't know," Flowey said. "One minute you were on fire and the next—"

"Oh my—" she put a palm to her face. She exhaled slowly and looked back up, tears brimming her blue eyes. "What is going on?"

Flowey sighed. "I . . . I think I have a guess—"

"Are you alright my child!" Toriel slammed open the door, holding a gross-looking pie with something red drizzled on top. Flowey ducked down, pretending to be a normal flower.

Frisk had a serious case of deja vu. "Um, nothing," Frisk blushed. "Sorry, I just, uh, had a nightmare. No need to worry."

Toriel's face softened. "Well, I made you a pie," she said, holding up said pie. "And I was hoping you could help me with the rest of them."

"The rest of them . . . ?" Frisk looked around the room, everything exactly like it had been before she had ran.

Toriel laughed, just like she had before. "The other pies, dear! What did you think I meant?"

Frisk looked back to Toriel who was smiling brightly and holding out that nasty pie. Frisk shook her head. Maybe she dozed off and had that really, vivid nightmare.

But that wasn't possible. Frisk _never_ had dreams that realistic, and there was no _way_ that this person would be so terrifying later.

Right?

"W-well," Toriel cleared her throat. She set the pie down on the floor, looking a little awkward. "When you're ready to help . . . you know where I am."

Toriel scurried away, leaving Flowey and Frisk alone. Frisk exhaled deeply and Flowey popped his head out from under her leg. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Frisk asked. "I just woke up from a nightmare, so—"

"That wasn't a nightmare," Flowey interrupted.

Frisk sighed in despair. "Well, then what happened, exactly?" she asked. "Because I’m freaking out right now!"

"I don't know," Flowey put a leaf to his top petals. "I'm starting to get a headache . . ."

"I know how you feel," Frisk scoffed.

Flowey sighed. "I just . . . " he paused. "One minute, you were dying—or dead, I don't know. And then the next . . .?" he shook his head. "This is all too strange for me."

"Listen, Flowey," she said. "There are lots of strange things. Jell-o is strange. My neighbor Barry is strange. You might even call my school a bit strange. But this? Landing underground and being dragged through some damp tunnels by a deranged goat for reasons I can't fathom with only a talking, sentient flower to keep you company isn't _strange_. It's . . . it's _beyond_ strange." She laughed a little. "I'm not even sure any of this is real. And since we're going all-out crazy, why not add reincarnation or life-like dreams or whatever that was to the list?"

She breathed in and out to calm herself. When she finally looked at Flowey again and noticed his hurt expression, she sighed. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just a little disoriented is all."

Then Frisk had an idea. If time had wound back, did that mean that everything was in it's proper place? And if so, what part in time was she exactly?

Frisk slowly moved her feet to the floor. "What are you doing?" Flowey asked.

"I just want to check something," Frisk said, sliding to the floor and checking under the bed. As she had thought, the shoe was there, still bloody and toe sitting at the heel. So, it was after the toe incident, but before Frisk read the inscription on the wall . . .

Frisk shot up. The inscription! Of course, how could she forget!

"Flowey, come take a look at this for me, will you?" Frisk said, moving toward the head of the bed. It only took her a few seconds until she located the inscription. "Here, this," she said and pointed at the wall.

Flowey squeezed in and tilted his head to the side. "What—" his face slowly fell from confused to shock to fear.

For a second, Frisk believed she heard him whisper, "Chara . . ." but it was probably her imagination.

"When did you find this?" he asked suddenly.

Frisk looked at him. "The last time. Before we had . . . you know, run away?"

"And you didn't tell me?"

"W-well sorry," Frisk chuckled nervously. "I was really startled by it. Plus you were asleep, and I—"

Flowey looked very angry and his head shot up to look at her. "Next time, I don't care _what_ I'm doing, even if I'm _dying_ , you tell me what you find. _Anything_."

The tone in his voice made Frisk flinch. "Yeah, sure," she said in slight shock. "Whatever you say, your Majesty."

When Flowey was silent, Frisk said softly, "That was just a joke."

Flowey didn't laugh. "Just . . ." He shook his head. "Never mind. Don't forget to tell me next time, okay?"

Frisk nodded, feeling to be more cautious around the flower. She looked back to the message, trying to see if there was a difference, and yet it looked exactly the same as before.

Frisk sighed and stood up from her kneeling position, her knees starting to hurt. "I . . . uh, I think I'll help out Toriel," she said.

Flowey didn't respond.

"Okay, well, um . . ." Frisk stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. Then, without another word, she turned and left, the flower still staring at the wall.

Frisk closed the door to the room with a _clack_ and began her trek to the kitchen, where she could hear Toriel humming and chopping at something. She made her way to the living room, feeling several different emotions.

First off, she felt scared. Of course she would feel scared! That horrible, spine chilling, mind numbing, gut clenching, pain inducing feeling had stalked her since she was a child. It almost had come as a welcome sight to Frisk, since she was so used to it at this point.

Secondly, she felt very confused, mostly about Flowey's situation. He had to have known what the message meant, and yet she felt like he was trying to hide it from her. But why? And why was he so hostile about the message? Did it remind him of something? She shook her head wondering if Flowey hated her now.

He had looked so scared earlier, and now . . . well, something must have reminded him of his past, considering how he had been so shocked at seeing the message. And what had he said? Chara? Who—or what—was that?

But most of all, Frisk felt sad. What she had said to Flowey had probably hurt his feelings, and it didn't help that he had said mean things in return. And if what had happened between Frisk and Toriel had really happened, then the goat monster was in much more pain than either the yellow flower or the young woman could have thought.

 _WHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?!?!_ Frisk heard Toriel's final words to her echoing in her ears. The pain behind every "why" was manifested in each magic fireball to be thrown Frisk's way. Frisk understood, now, why Toriel was so lonely. Everyone had left her, even those who had promised to stay.

Like Frisk.

But that didn't explain why she had . . . killed—Frisk could only assume—those other children. If she didn't want them to leave, why did she scare them off?

 _You were_ leaving _me? Just like the others? Just like . . . Asriel?_ Frisk remembered. She had heard of that name twice now, from Toriel and from the message on the wall. Who were they, and why did they matter so much to be mentioned so many times?

Frisk entered the kitchen, and not a moment too soon, for Toriel was just making the final pie, stuffing in . . . well, something that  looked a lot like meat into the pie. Frisk swallowed hard, knowing by this point that Toriel probably was stuffing meat into a pie, and that meat had probably come from the bleeding bag.

"Oh, Frisk!" Toriel smiled wide. She pointed to the knife on the counter. "Would you be a dear and grab that knife for me? I need your assistance once I'm finished this pie."

Frisk inhaled sharply, feeling a sudden fear of the woman. Was Toriel going to hurt her, or kill her like last time? But she quickly quelled the notion and moved to get the knife. "Thank you, my child," Toriel said, turning back to the pie.

Frisk gripped the knife by the handle, her small hand easily wrapping around the hilt.

Frisk gripped the knife by the handle, her small hand easily wrapping around the hilt. For a scary second, she thought about stabbing the old goat woman and making a run for it. And the thought stayed for more than a couple of seconds. Frisk shook her head. What was happening to her?

"Here," Frisk hesitantly handed Toriel the knife. Toriel gave a warm smile in return, turning the knife expertly in her hand until she had it by the hilt.

"Alright, Frisk, time to help me," Toriel said, turning to Frisk, knife still in hand. Frisk smiled nervously and took a step back.

"H-help you w-w-with what?" she asked, hating that her voice was shaking. She really did want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, and hope that the goat didn't intend to hurt her.

"Tell me," Toriel edged closer to Frisk, the knife starting to look very threatening. "Where's the flower that was in your beautiful brown hair?"

"O-oh," Frisk flashed a quick smile and put her hand to her ear where Flowey had been hidden earlier. "Well, I took it out for a short while."

"I see," Toriel chuckled. "But you know, I don't really believe you."

Frisk retreated until her back hit the wall, the door only a few feet away from her. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You see, I didn't see the flower in your hair before we reached the tunnels, even though it was a buttercup, same as the ones you fell on," Toriel explained. "Only, there are no buttercups that far into the tunnels. So tell me, who's your friend?"

Frisk's eyes widened. "W-what?"

Toriel grinned bitterly, "You brought _him_ with you, didn't you? _Flowey_."

 _Time to go_ , Frisk thought, making a wild dash for the exit.

"You can't leave this place!" Toriel called. "You can't leave me!"

How did she know Flowey?! Was this the reason he was so afraid of the goat woman? What was their relationship—

SLASH! Frisk skidded to a stop, Toriel's knife imbedded into the wall in front of her. She felt her cheek, blood already silently dripping from the small wound.

"Okay," she muttered, reaching for the door handle. "No time to pick up Flowey."

But large, fluffy hands grabbed Frisk's wrist and pulled her away from the door. "You won't leave me!" Toriel cackled. "I'm going to keep you here with me, forever!"

"Let me go!" Frisk tried to wiggle her way out of Toriel's grip, but it was useless.

"You're just like the others!" Toriel shrieked. She pulled Frisk closer to the knife in the wall, presumably to get close enough to stab Frisk. Frisk struggled harder. "And that annoying flower . . . always getting in the way . . ."

Frisk saw Toriel grip the hilt of the knife out of the corner of her wide blue eyes. "But not worry," Toriel said, bringing the knife out toward Frisk's throat. "Your SOUL and your meat are mine! We'll be together forever, as you become a part of me!"

_Does she mean to . . . eat me?!_

It made sense. The meat pies, the message . . . all of it. Did that mean that Toriel killed those other children so she could . . . eat them? But then, wouldn't she still be lonely? Well, not if she thought that they would never leave her if they . . . became a part of her. But . . .

Toriel stabbed out toward Frisk's heart, knife leading the way. Frisk dodged the attack to the best of her ability, getting the knife lodged into her shoulder.

Frisk cried out in pain as blood gushed from the wound. _She hit an artery . . ._

" _Hold still_ ," Toriel said in a dangerous voice.

"S-stop," Frisk said shakily.

Toriel stabbed down again, this time hitting Frisk just below the heart. Frisk gasped in pain, knowing a wound like that was fatal.

"Please!" Frisk attempted. "I know you're lonely, but—"

"You know _nothing!_ " Toriel hissed, bringing the knife up once more.

Frisk was powerless at this point. She felt dizzy and cold; the amount of blood she lost was probably enough for her to pass out . . . or kill her. But she wasn’t about to give up.

"I know about Asriel," Frisk bluffed.

Toriel stopped, her face paling. "W-what? How do you . . ."

"I know about Asriel," she repeated. "And Chara."

The knife dropped to the floor with a clang. "A-Asriel? Chara . . .?" Toriel's grin faded to be replaced with a sneer. "Where did you learn those names?"

"They were here, right?" Frisk asked. "They were your children."

"Stop," Toriel put her hands over her ears. "Stop it."

Frisk took a shaky breath, the hole in her chest making it harder and harder to breathe. She could feel her heart slowing down, the pump having nothing to pump. "Asriel died, right? And because of that . . ."

"ENOUGH!" Toriel shouted.

~}-{~

Frisk woke again in bed, but this time she wasn't screaming. Flowey was snuggled up, fast asleep. So, he had awoken to her screams last time.

Flowey shifted in his sleep, yawning and coming to. "Wh-what?" he asked. "How did Iㅡ"

"Morning," Frisk sighed. "I think I just died again."

Flowey's face flashed a quick look of shame, but it was quickly replaced by confusion as he looked up at Frisk. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

" _That_ ," he pointed a leaf at Frisk's ear. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't there before."

Frisk put a hand to her ear, feeling around until she found it. It felt like a flower was stuck in her hair. "Huh, weird," she said, and then tried to pull it out.

"OUCH!" she screamed, the flower still in it's place. "What the—"

"What?" Flowey asked in a concerned tone. "What is it?"

She tried again, only this time it was more painful. "OW OW OW OW OW!" She let go of the flower. "It feels like I'm pulling out my brain with sheer force!"

"What?" Flowey scrunched up his face. "But . . . it's a flower, right? A yellow one like me."

"A buttercup?" Frisk asked. "But what is it doing on my body? Well, a part of my body, really."

“I’m sure it cuddled up there to enjoy the smell of your hair,” he said dryly.

Flowey thought for a minute. "Hey, Frisk?" he asked. "Do you have any more of those flowers on your body?"

Frisk thought it to be an odd question, but decided to humor the talking flower. Frisk checked her body, looking for another small buttercup. It wasn't too hard to find, surprisingly, since it was on her stomach. And, like before, when she tugged at the flower a searing pain erupted across her whole midsection. "What are these things?" Frisk wondered.

"Are there any others?" Flowey suddenly asked. "And have you seen these before?"

"I think I'd know if I had seen flowers growing on my body," she muttered. "And there aren't any others; just these two."

"Hmm . . ." Flowey put a leaf to his non-existent chin. "And you've died twice now?"

Frisk nodded.

"What if the flowers and the deaths are connected?"

"What, like a scoreboard or something?" Frisk scoffed.

"Well, it's possible!" Flowey shrugged.

Frisk thought about it for a moment. These things were permanent―or at least she assumed, since she couldn't pull them out without damaging herself―so what was to say they weren't a reminder of how many times she'd died and come back to life. It kinda reminded her of a video game, except instead of limited lives, she had magic flowers growing on her body.

"Do you wanna test this theory?" Frisk asked.

"What, and kill yourself?" Flowey joked.

Frisk didn't smile.

"Wait, you aren't seriously considering―"

"It's worth a shot," Frisk shrugged.

"Frisk, this is dangerous," Flowey warned.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'm _dying_. But hey, I've come back twice now!"

"But what if you don't come back next time? You gotta keep in mind―"

"What else have I got to lose?" Frisk sighed. "Flowey, I'm stuck underground, with a flower as my only companion, and a goat monster who's already killed me. _Twice._ "

Flowey looked hurt, yet again. Frisk bit her lip and said, "I'm sorry, Flowey. I'm just scared right now about what is going on. I mean, everyone where I come from says that once you're dead, you don't come back. Ever. So, this is kinda new for me."

Flowey nodded, understanding.The flower seemed to take everything so well. And how did he always remember everything that happened after every death?

"Wait, Flowey?" Frisk asked. "Last time, Toriel knew who you were. What . . . what is your relation to her?"

Flowey tensed. "Oh, um . . . well . . ."

"Flowey?"

"W-well," Flowey cleared his throat. "You must know that you aren't the only human to fall down the mountain, right?"

"Right . . . ?"

"So, um, I . . . I always help them," Flowey said. "Everyone that falls is so confused and scared. Well, aside from the violent ones. Those ones are mean and just like everyone else in this horrible, he―"

"Flowey," Frisk politely interrupted. "You're rambling."

"Right, right," Flowey rubbed his leaves together. "Well, everytime I see a new person, I help them. I think I do it because I know how terrifying Toriel can be, but also because I'm hoping I can help them before they die . . . or worse, become just as bad as the monsters down here."

"So that's what she meant," Frisk murmured. "Ha ha! She kept saying that you always got in the way!"

Flowey blushed. "So, yeah, I guess that's how she knew me."

Frisk inhaled the smell of baking pie and wondered why Toriel hadn't come in yet. Frisk had screamed, so what . . .?

“Flowey? Is it possible that Toriel has been listening in on the conversation this whole time?”

Flowey paled. “Oh, I sure hope not.”

A sudden knock on the door made Frisk jump. “Frisk?” Toriel’s voice was muffled by the door. “I know you’re in there. Come out and help me with something, please.”

The door handle jiggled, and Frisk was glad she locked it earlier. “Uh, just a moment, please!” Frisk called. Then to Flowey, “What do I do?”

“Who are you talking to?” Toriel asked.

“Um, no one?” Frisk bit her lip, hating the way it sounded like a question.

The handle jiggled harder, to the point of shaking the door. "Frisk, unlock the door," Toriel's voice was rough. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Just a minute!"

"Act like nothing is going on!" Flowey whispered harshly. Frisk nodded and headed for the door, Flowey tucking himself under the covers of the bed.

Unlocking the door, Frisk was very surprised when she saw Toriel looming over her with a knife in hand. _Not again._

~}-{~

"OK, we need to come up with a plan of action," Frisk said as she stood up from off the bed. Two more buttercup appeared on her left temple and on the back of her head, four flowers in total now. After she had opened the door for Toriel, the goat monster had killed her when spotting one of Flowey's leaves under the covers. The time after that, Frisk had tried again to run from the house, only this time using a different route; the result of having done so was almost exactly like the first time she had died.

"I agree," Flowey sighed. "Last time was really weird."

"Yeah, so I think I have it figured out," Frisk said, starting to pace. "Toriel comes to the door if I take too long to come out of the room. If I come out of the room and into the kitchen, she kills me. But if I try to run out the front door--no matter where I go--she finds me and kills me. Is that sounding right to you?"

Flowey nodded solemnly.

"And everytime I die--like you hypothesised--a new flower appears somewhere on my body."

Frisk rubbed her face and stopped pacing. "So, what, I'm just going to keep dying forever? Is that my punishment?"

"Punishment?" Flowey asked. "What do you mean by--"

"It doesn't matter," Frisk muttered.

The two were silent as the sounds from the kitchen continued. They still had some time before Toriel would come and investigate what was taking so long.

Frisk didn't know what to do to escape anymore. Was she supposed to run? Try to reach out to Toriel? Ask for help from Napstablook? She was so confused, and frankly a little tired of her attempts at escape.

"Frisk . . . do you remember what I said to you the first time you died?" Flowey asked.

"Before or after I woke up?"

"Before."

"You said a lot of things . . . " Frisk snapped her fingers. "Oh! I do remember! You said something about the only exit being in Toriel's basement?"

Flowey nodded excitedly. "So you do remember."

"It would have been nice if you had reminded me earlier," Frisk grumped. "So what's the plan, walk right past her and out the exit?"

"Well, yeah . . ."

Frisk smiled. "That sounds a bit crazy, but what's not at this point?"

Flowey grinned too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! And a big thanks to pinkfruity for helping with the editing. You are an ANGEL!


	6. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk remembers bits of her past and Toriel and Frisk have their last fight.
> 
> WARNING! If you are not a fan of long chapters, then I'm sorry. CARRY ON!

Frisk and Flowey opened the door cautiously, peering out from around the doorframe. Checking both the left and the right, Frisk deemed it safe to move. Quickly, she ran to the stairs that led to the basement and down the stairs.

At the bottom of the steps, Frisk was greeted with a long purple corridor. She couldn't see the end of it; it just looked like it went on forever. "Wow," she whispered in awe. "This is amazing."

"Hurry," Flowey shuddered, making Frisk 's head tingle. "She could be here any minute."

Right then, Toriel called out, "Frisk, where are you? You should help me if you aren't resting."

"Go, go, go!" Flowey tugged on Frisk's hair like she was a horse, which she didn't like too much, but was too preoccupied to complain.

Running as hard and fast as she could, Frisk tore down the corridor, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. "Frisk!" Toriel called frantically. "Where are you?"

As Frisk went further through the corridor, she realized how dark it was getting. She whimpered when she couldn't see anything anymore.

"Frisk?"

Frisk turned around and saw how bright the doorway to the upstairs was. Flowey tugged on her hair again. "Frisk, come on! We need to go!"

He was asking her to turn her back on light and being able to see and travel ahead into the blinding abyss. He was asking her to face one of her most hated fears, a fear that she had been known for since a small child. "I . . ."

"Frisk, MOVE!" Flowey shouted.

At the top of the stairs, Toriel was seen peering over the railing. "Oh, my child, there you are! You shouldn't be in the basement~."

Frisk was reminded of things she didn't want to remember.

~}-{~

It was a chilly evening in the alleyway Frisk had called home for almost a year. Being only nine, it hadn't been much, and honestly she wanted nothing more than to be like normal kids in school: playing around, getting into trouble, messing with the teachers, and overall learning how to be normal in society. She had seen lots of people walk past the alley with their children in tow, all of them looking happy and content with their lives.

But she knew. She knew of how ugly the world could really be. She knew that all of that happiness could be ripped out from under them and they'd be left with nothing.

Frisk knew despair.

"Hey, kid," a man called out at the entrance to the alleyway. He made his way to the back where Frisk was huddled in the corner. "Whaddya think you're doin' in here?"

Frisk said nothing, she just curled in tighter and shivered from the cold.

The man chuckled. "I'm not askin' again."

Frisk still didn't respond. At this point the man was starting to get a bit frustrated. He shook his head, making his scraggly brown beard and brown hair fly around his round face. "Look here, kiddo," he pointed a dirty finger in her face. "I'm not too appreciative of the attitude you're givin' me. Now, I wanna know what it is you're doin' in here. You shouldn't be in dirty alleyways that--"

"Screw you," Frisk sneered.

"That's it," the man grabbed Frisk by the arm and hoisted her to her feet and dragged her to the entrance of the alleyway. He threw her to the ground with a loud  _slap._ "Now get lost, kid."

"That's  _my_ home!" Frisk shouted.

The man grabbed her shirt and pulled her in close until their noses were almost touching. His breath was horrid, like a mix of raw fish and an old shoe. He looked her up and down and grinned, showing a mouth full of rotten teeth. "You know what? I. Don't. Care. Come back again, and I'll kill you."

The look in his green eyes gave Frisk the feeling that he was deadly serious. "Get out. Now!"

Frisk was again pushed to the ground, but this time she was wise enough to take a hint. She scrambled to her feet and ran.

~}-{~

"Frisk, what are you doing?!" Flowey whispered harshly, bringing Frisk out of her thoughts. "She's right on--"

Frisk was suddenly pulled backwards, a large fluffy paw on her shoulder. "Frisk, where do you think you're going?" Toriel asked. "It's very dangerous down here. You could get lost."

"I-In your basement?" Frisk stuttered.

"Yes," Toriel's smile began to falter. "In my . . . basement."

"Frisk, what are you doing?" Flowey whispered. "We need to go through the basement if we want to get out of the Ruins!"

Frisk didn't hear him. "I'll . . . I'll go back upstairs, then," she said.

Toriel smiled approvingly, shooting a quick glance at her right ear where Flowey was trying his best to camouflage. "Yes, I think it'd be . . . best . . . if you went back to your room."

Frisk began to walk back when suddenly Toriel grabbed at Frisk's head. "One moment, my child," Toriel said calmly as she ripped Flowey from Frisk's ear.

"What are you doing?!" Frisk gasped.

"Y O U," Toriel put Flowey's face up close to her own. "S T O P  F I L L I N G  M Y  C H I L D R E N ' S  H E A D S  W I T H  L I E S."

Flowey tried his best to keep a poker face, but sweat started to form on his forehead.

"He isn't doing anything wrong!" Frisk shouted and tried to separate the two. "Stop it!"

"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!" Toriel shoved Frisk aside, leading to her hitting her head on the wall. The wall cracked and pieces of plaster fell to the floor around her crumpled body.

"Frisk?" Flowey asked in a shaky voice. "Frisk?"

 

"Okay, we need a better plan," Frisk said, pacing the small bedroom again. A buttercup was just starting to bloom on her left eyebrow, closer to her eye then she would have liked.

"Why didn't you just go through the basement like we planned last time?" Flowey asked, jumping up and down on the bed in frustration. "You stopped just a few hundred feet from the door. We could have left before she would have even had the time to notice!"

"That plan wasn't going to work," Frisk said bluntly.

"And why not?" Flowey scoffed. "It was just fine until you had to stop and smell the flowers!"

"Not going to work," Frisk repeated.

Flowey sighed in exasperation. "Then how do you want to leave the Ruins?" he asked. "I mean, we've tried every other way. What else is there to do?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm thinking," Frisk sat on the ground. She had been over everything, twice. She had even wondered what else she could do, but all that resulted in was a big fat "no". And if she went to the basement . . . well, that wasn't going to happen. So, was she going to be stuck here forever, just dying over and over, or perhaps was she going to get along with Toriel somehow and avert the crisis?

The shoe could still be seen under the bed, it's nasty details hidden from sight at the moment. Frisk wondered what had happened to the child the shoe belonged to. Were they scared? Did they want to go home? What was their family like? Did they . . . did they cry out to their parents in the end?

Tears started to well up in Frisk's eyes. Those poor children . . .

~}-{~

Those stupid children! After harassing Frisk on the street, and taking her money, they actually had the nerve to call the cops out on her!

Frisk brushed off her torn dress, the grit from her fingers only smearing the dirt around. It was bad enough that she had been kicked out of her home not two days before, but now everyone was either trying to ignore her or beat her to a pulp.

 _It's all that guy's fault_ , she reminded herself. He's _the one that kicked me out. If it wasn't for him, then maybe--_

"Move out of the way, kiddo," a gruff voice said as Frisk was shoved aside.

"Hey, what's the big idea, jack--!" Frisk stopped mid-sentence when she saw who had spoken. Brown scraggly hair, green eyes, long beard . . . "You."

The man didn't hear her, just kept walking as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"Hey!" Frisk called. She grabbed whatever was closest and threw it at his back. Sadly, it was a rotten egg. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

"Huh?" the man turned around, anger flashing in his eyes.

But Frisk's eyes were equally filled. "Don't 'huh' me!" she said, standing taller and puffing out her chest. She might have been small, but she was determined to give this guy a piece of her mind. "What is your  _problem_?!"

"Whaddya mean, kid?" the man was now completely turned to her direction.

"You're the one that kicked me out of my home to make it your own," Frisk reminded him.

The man looked lost in thought, and even started picking at his ear with his pinkie. "Hmm . . ." he hummed. "Home . . . ah yeah! That's right, you're that scrawny kid in the alleyway."

Frisk started to walk forward, all the anger she had held for the past two days building up to explode in a shower of insults and punches. "I'm not just some  _scrawny kid_ ," she said.

"Oh yeah?" the man taunted. "Then what are you?"

"I'm much more than that!" Frisk huffed. "I . . . I . . . !"

"You . . . you . . . !" he mocked. "Look, kid. What happened, happened. Why don't you go back to your parents or the orphanage or wherever it was you came from."

Frisk bristled at that. "My parents were killed in a robbery, and the police never bothered to take me to an orphanage!" she shouted. A few betraying tears made their way down her face.

"Kid, it's customary that they do that," he said, looking bored. "So, you ran away from the system. Do I look like I care?"

"Believe what you want, but I'm telling the truth." And with that, she huffed and walked away. But before she went too far off, she shouted behind her, "And my name isn't  _kid_. It's  _Frisk_!"

~}-{~

". . . isk."

Frisk shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was still in the bedroom, Flowey still on the bed . . . waving his leaves around in annoyance.

"Frisk!" he raised a leaf and waved it in front of her face. "Yoohoo? Hey, pay attention to what I'm saying!"

"Sorry, what was that?" Frisk mumbled, blinking the forming tears away.

Flowey noticed the shimmer in her eyes and asked, " . . . Are you okay?"

"Huh?" he pointed to her eyes and she chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just . . . remembering something."

"Uh-huh," Flowey shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Well, anyways, what's your plan, since the other one 'won't work'?"

"I . . . uh," Frisk scratched her head. "I really can't come up with anything."

Flowey cocked an "eyebrow". "Seriously?"

Frisk sighed. "Well, it's not like I  _didn't_ like the other plan," she said. "I just can't do it."

"Why not?"

Frisk stayed silent.

"Frisk."

Frisk looked around the room. Anywhere but at Flowey. Then she noticed something on the dresser and smiled.

"Frisk, tell me why you stopped--"

Frisk giggled and grabbed the flashlight from off of the dresser. "I think I can do the original plan now!"

 

This time, when Frisk went to the basement, even though she was met with darkness, the flashlight was turned on immediately and the path was illuminated. It was like the flashlight had become a beacon of hope for Frisk. Finally, a way out!

Flowey was parked on Frisk's shoulder, his excitement reflecting her own. "I can't believe it," Flowey gasped as they ran down the corridor. "We're finally getting out of here. Wow . . ."

Frisk had to wonder how long Flowey was in the Ruins. If he knew his way around, it must have been a long time, right? Or maybe . . .

"Hey Flowey?" Frisk asked while giving out a short puff. "How . . . how long have you been down here?"

"Well, same as everyone else," Flowey smiled. "It's been a few--"

"No, I meant the Ruins," Frisk amended.

"Oh," Flowey looked down, a haunted look coming to his face. "Well, originally, I wasn't planning on staying here for very long. But, um, I had a sister here that I wanted to protect, you see. Heh . . ." his voice trailed off.

 _Sister?_  she thought. In her mind, she pictured another yellow flower, but this one had feminine features. It was a really weird mental picture.

"Should we go back to look for her?" she asked.

"No," Flowey shook his petaled head. "She's not here anymore. She's . . . um . . ."

"I see," was all Frisk said, but deep down she had the feeling that his sister had . . . died.

They rounded a corner and standing in front of them was huge purple doors with magnificent carvings engraved along their surface. Frisk's pace slowed as she looked up at them in awe. Flowey didn't say a word, either. "This is . . . in her basement?" Frisk asked, nothing else coming to mind.

Nothing could be heard except for each other's breathing. It was eerily silent, and with nothing else to listen to, it was made very known when they heard Toriel slam the basement door open. "Friiiiiiisk!" they heard Toriel call out, her voice bouncing off of the walls. "My child, where are you! It's dangerous down here!"

"We'd better hurry," Flowey encouraged. "All you have to do is open the door and then--"

"I got it," Frisk held up her hand for him to stop. The more talking they did, she feared, the more likely that Toriel would be able to hear them.

Flowey sighed, sending Frisk's hair on a windy ride and giving Frisk a good wiff of his breath. Frisk giggled a bit. It smelled like cut flowers.

"What're you laughing at?" he asked. "Hurry!"

Frisk did as she was told and went to push open the doors. Only . . . nothing happened. So, she tried pulling them with the rod-like handles. Still nothing.

"They're locked," Frisk gulped. "What now?"

Flowey's already white face went whiter. "I . . . have no idea."

Frisk sucked in air, but for some reason, it didn't feel like the air entered her lungs. Instead, a dreadful feeling--a  _nauseating_  feeling--formed in the pit of her stomach. "What do we do?" she muttered to no one.

"Frisk," Toriel's voice sounded from behind. Frisk's breathing stopped. "So . . . you found it."

Frisk turned around, but didn't quite have the courage to look up at Toriel

Toriel stood tall and stated, "I'm afraid that now is the time to go back to your room."

Frisk finally looked up to Toriel's waist. She had an oven mitt attached to one hand and something else that she was hiding in the other hand. "Now, Frisk."

Frisk said nothing.

"Frisk, please," Toriel said. Frisk looked further up until she saw Toriel's face, or at least, part of her face. Half of it was hidden in shadow. "Go upstairs now before something bad happens."

"'Something bad'?" Frisk finally spoke. Her voice shook, but her posture remained the same. "I came down here just fine, and the doors are locked, so--"

"That's not what I meant," Toriel cut her off. Her red eyes--or at least the one that Frisk could see--burned with anger. Frisk backed up a step, her back hitting the doors. Startled by the sudden stop, Frisk looked away briefly, giving Toriel a perfect view of Flowey who was still perched on Frisk's shoulder. Toriel's attention sprung to the flower in an instant, and Frisk could feel Flowey start to shake.

"So, that's what this is," Toriel smiled creepily. "You've been feeding my child lies, haven't you? You child stealer!"

Frisk held up a hand. "Flowey did nothing wrong," she said clearly. "I'm the one you should be angry with."

Toriel's head shot toward Frisk's face. "Oh, I'm angry with you too," she sneered. "I told you to help me when you were done inspecting the room, not explore the basement!"

"But you never said the basement was off-limits," Frisk pointed out.

"It shouldn't matter!" Toriel took a second to calm down, pocketing whatever-it-was in her left hand. Then she took off her oven mitt and cast it aside. "Frisk . . . my child . . . if you don't do what I tell you, you could get hurt. I do this to protect you. Don't you understand?! The other's were following this same path, and they were all harmed! Asriel died because he didn't stay close to me!"

Frisk froze. Was that what this was all about? Asriel's death, the mysterious "C"--which Frisk could only assume to be Chara, the other child--and Toriel's insistence of calling everyone her "child". "You miss them, don't you?"

"Miss who?" Toriel asked.

"Your children," Frisk explained. "Your  _real_  children."

Toriel smiled sweetly. "My child, everyone who comes down here is my  _real_  child."

"No," Frisk shook her head and smiled warmly. "You miss Asriel and Chara."

At the mention of Chara, Flowey tensed, but Frisk ignored him. "You miss your two children greatly, and to compensate for that loss, you claim that everyone is your child. What I don't understand is that you kill those that come here. Wouldn't you want to protect them even more?"

"You don't understand," Toriel said, still smiling, but tears slowly started rolling down her face. "I  _am_  protecting them."

"What?"

Toriel took a shaky breath. "They were all trying to  _leave_  me, " she said. "But if they did that, they would surely die. So, I took matters into my own hands."

"And killed them before something else did?  _Ate_  them before something else did?!"

"No, Frisk, you don't understand!" Toriel put her paws on Frisk's shoulders. Flowey moved to Frisk's neck and part way into her brown hair. "Now they're with me  _forever_! They've become a  _part_  of me!"

Frisk's face went a shade whiter. "Y-you . . . what?"

"I did what I did so they would never leave me again!"

Flowey shivered on Frisk's neck, making her skull vibrate. "This is really bad," Flowey mumbled. "We're gonna die. I'm gonna die. If I die, do I come back? I don't really wanna find out . . ."

Frisk gently pushed Toriel's hands off of her shoulders and gave it her best shot to smile big for Toriel. What came out was a disgruntled, shaky half-smile.

Toriel sighed. "My child, you have no need to worry. I'm going to protect you, too."

Frisk's face fell and she lurched to the side in an attempt to get away from the goat monster. Toriel thrust out her hand, grabbing Frisk by her forearm, but Frisk refused to let her grab her so easily. Wriggling out of the hold, Frisk fell to the floor, her face getting scratched by the odd cement that was used for the house foundation. Hadn't Toriel heard of carpeting?

A fireball scorched the ground near Frisk's face. Maybe that was why . . .

"Frisk," Toriel said calmly. "Stay put. Don't you know that I do this out of love?"

Frisk scrambled to her feet as more fireballs flew past. One said ball of fire singed Frisk's arm and her blue and purple sweater caught aflame. "Whoa!" Frisk patted at her arm to stop the fire, but in that small amount of time, Toriel had caught up with her and took her by the collar of her shirt.

"Stay here with me," Toriel rasped. "Forever."

Frisk shouted in alarm and pulled away from Toriel, a chunk of her collar tearing away. Toriel's paw came close to her face and she sniffed the cloth. "You have such a sweet smell. Like buttercups . . ."

Frisk didn't stay to hear the rest. Instead, she ran like no tomorrow--which may have actually been the case, seeing as how she still hadn't survived through today.

Puffing down the way she came, she didn't even care that she had dropped the flashlight a ways back. As long as she could see the light from under the basement door, she'd be fine. Now, if she could just make it there . . .

"Oh Friiiisk?" Toriel's feet came booming up from behind. "Where are you going? Weren't you trying to  _leave_  me?"

Fireballs danced in the air above Toriel's head while the ones in her hands were thrown, one after another, at Frisk's back. Frisk did a zigzag maneuver to the best of her ability, but whenever a fireball got too close, something would go up in flames. First her sweater, then her shorts, her hair, whatever. And, to the best of her ability, she would pat them out and keep running. Running, running, running.

"I don't remember the corridor being this long!" Frisk shouted to Flowey who was still curled around her neck. He didn't respond, just kept muttering the same thing over and over.

"I wish . . . I wish . . . I wish . . ."

"Flowey!" Frisk dodged another fireball, barely. She finally took off her sweater, the wool nothing more than a few shreds of smelly, charred, incomprehensible mesh. Underneath was a white tank top that hadn't been touched yet. Frisk almost hated the idea of letting out into the open, since it was so clean.

"Flowey, can you hear me?" Frisk tried again. "Flowey, I need your help--"

"WHY!?" Toriel screeched. "WHY DO THEY ALWAYS WANT TO LEAVE!?"

Fireballs cascaded from the ceiling, engulfing Frisk's vision. She watched as she and Flowey were burned alive slowly. Slower than the first time she had been burned. And yet, unlike the first time, Frisk didn't scream.

Flowey started to howl, his eyes so wide that Frisk could actually see a bit of white.  _How big are his pupils?_  she wondered.

As Flowey tried to distance himself from Frisk, Frisk sat on the ground and let the fire do what it did best. As if she could actually stop the flames! And even if she did, Toriel was still throwing the balls of flame, one after the other, screaming, "WHY?! WHY?! WHYYYYYYYY?!"

So instead, Frisk calmly sat down, ignoring the pain and the screams. Time seemed to slow; she could practically see the fireballs' archs. Was any of this really important? Was getting out really necessary? Was surviving her top priority? If what Toriel said was true, then are there others like her out there? And if so, then what was the point?

 _The point is that you can save them_ , someone told her in her mind.  _You can save_ all  _of them. Save them from their heartaches, their regrets, their pains._ SAVE  _them, Frisk!_

 

Frisk was again standing in front of the door, her nose inches from the carvings. "Whoa!" she jumped back.

Flowey was still screaming on her shoulder, a frantic look on his face.

"Flowey!" Frisk grabbed at her little friend, but he jerked away.

"Stop!" he screamed. "Stop! NO MORE! NO MORE!"

"Flowey!" Frisk finally caught a hold of him. "Flowey, STOP!"

He tried to wiggle out her grasp, but when he realized that it was pointless, he started to ball. "Please don't kill me!" he wailed.

Frisk held him close to her chest, muffling his sobs and comforting him at the same time. "Shh . . ." she stroked his petals. "Shh, Flowey, it's okay. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

Flowey sobbed heavily into Frisk's sweater, so much so that Frisk started to feel wet under it. "It's okay, shh, shh," she continued.

The basement door burst open, Toriel's voice calling out, "Friiiiiiisk! My child, where are you! It's dangerous down here!"

Flowey started and Frisk had to hold him tighter before he alerted Toriel to their presence. Maybe if she didn't hear anything, it might give them enough time to plan something out.

Frisk could hear Toriel sniffing, her nostrils loud and overbearing in the overall quiet of her basement. It lasted like that for a few minutes until Frisk was sure it was okay to talk. At least for a short amount of time.

She slowly brought Flowey back out, who had been shivering violently the whole time. As soon as he came back out, tears fell onto his petals. "Wh . . ."

"Flowey," Frisk smiled down at him kindly. She stroked his petals and said, "Are you feeling better now?"

He nodded.

"Good," her smile widened. "Because we need to find a way to open the doors."

"A . . . a key," Flowey sniffled. He was no longer crying, much to Frisk's relief; he had already soaked through her sweater. 

"A key to the doors?" Frisk asked.

Flowey nodded.

"Do you know where the key is?"

Flowey smiled bitterly. "If only I had known . . . I would've grabbed it earlier."

"Is it back in the house?"

He scoffed. "Probably not anymore. Best case scenario? She's hidden it somewhere. Worst? She's already gotten rid of it."

"No," Frisk shook her head. "She wouldn't have thrown it away."

"How are you so sure?"

Frisk chuckled. "Because I saw her pocket it earlier. Which means, she may have use of it still."

 

Toriel said and did the same things as the time before, when she finally found them. And Frisk died again, like before. And again. And again. And yet again.

But she was determined to not give up, even when her arm started to clump with flowers or when the buttercups started to grow a little too close to her left eye. Even when Flowey told her to stop or when Toriel became insane. Even when she had nothing else in mind but to free Toriel of her sadness.

Frisk would never give up on Toriel.

"WHY?!" Toriel questioned. "WHY?!"

Frisk would dodge fireballs and try to talk to Toriel, but Toriel wouldn't hear any of it. She would swipe at Frisk with her claws or rain balls of fire from the ceiling or--one that caught Frisk by surprise--she would lash out with a knife and cut Frisk to ribbons.

And every time, she would scream out the question "why". Over and over and over. In a way, it was really annoying, but overall it was heartbreaking. This woman, who had lost both of her children, had been driven to insanity, and had been left alone for so long, was being denied the one thing she wanted most. Love.

Frisk knew what she had to do.

A ring of flames encompassed Toriel, making it almost impossible to pass.  _Almost_. If Frisk could find the weak spot, she could get through with minimal damage. And after that . . .

"Flowey," Frisk held her hand up by her shoulder, signalling for the flower to climb onto her hand. The flower did so, and Frisk held him out for her to see him face to face. "If we're going to survive this, I need you to stay here for a minute."

"What?" Flowey asked. "Why? What are you doing?"

"Just trust me, okay?"

"I don't like the sound of that," he admitted.

Frisk put him on the ground anyway, telling him, "Stay here, and don't try to follow me."

"What are you  _doing_?" Flowey called out as Frisk ran toward the fire.

 _Now_ , Frisk analyzed.  _Where might the weak spot be?_

There were three possibilities that she could see. One was at the front, directly where Frisk stood. It seemed like an easy spot, though, almost like Toriel set it as a trap. But it was a spot that would cause the least amount of damage. Then again, Toriel would see Frisk coming, and that wasn't exactly the best option, especially since Frisk wanted the element of surprise on her side.

The other spot was on the side. It was smaller, and wouldn't leave much room for error, but it was left unguarded by Toriel. Plus, she probably had no idea that it was even there, considering Frisk would have to go in at a certain angle. An angle that Toriel wouldn't be able to catch out of the corner of her eye. So, element of surprise: very likely.

There was one other way, but Frisk deemed it too risky to try. So, she went with option two: angle in and hope she didn't botch it.

Crossing her arms over her face, she dived in through the angle, the limited space really hard to navigate.

Did she get burned? Of course! But, as much as she would have if she tried anywhere else? Not at all.

Frisk emerged from the flames inside the circle and next to Toriel, who, at the moment, was just turning around, surprised at the sudden action. Frisk had less than a few seconds to complete her plan.

Frisk lept forward, arms outstretched, while Toriel--whose arms were already outstretched--brought in her arms to blast Frisk with a pillar of flames. Time slowed, and Frisk thought for a fraction of a second that she wasn't going to make it.  _Well, at least I can try again_.

But then she saw it. Toriel's hesitation. The enraged look in her eyes dimmed, and Frisk saw the sadness that had been hidden under the mask. Though, she didn't need to see it to know.

Frisk knew then that if she just went for it, she'd win. She didn't falter, even when Toriel noticed her mistake. Frisk's smile grew, and she broke through Toriel's arms and straight to the woman's middle, her arms wrapping tightly around Toriel's waist.

"Wh--" Toriel's shock could be heard in her voice. "What are you doing?! LET ME GO!"

Frisk clung to Toriel as if she would die otherwise. Which would probably happen if she did let go.

"GET OFF!" Toriel tried to pull Frisk off, but Frisk refused to give way. "GET OFF OF ME!"

After a few more minutes of Toriel pushing and pulling and Frisk never giving in, Toriel finally gave up. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" she shrieked. Frisk's eardrums complained, but she didn't allow her arms to move, her hands interlocking behind Toriel's back to ensure that she wouldn't get careless.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Toriel continued. "AAAAAaaaaaHHHHh! WAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Toriel started hiccuping, and Frisk realized the goat was crying. "AHHAAA! WHYYYYYY!"

Frisk held on tighter, squeezing the fluffy monster until Toriel was eventually hugging her back. Tears flooded Frisk's back, her sweater soaked through and her pants starting to get it.

It took a while before the flames finally died down. Toriel was sobbing uncontrollably, and in Frisk's mind she thought that Toriel had just dowsed the flames with her tears.  _What a silly thought_.

Frisk didn't know how long they stayed like that, in each other's arms. It seemed like only a few seconds to Frisk, but it was probably more like several minutes or even an hour.

"Why?" Toriel hiccuped. "Why do they always want to leave?"

"They have to," Frisk pulled back so she could see Toriel's face. She smiled gently. "Toriel, they can't stay with you forever."

"Why not?" Toriel sniffed. "I love them, and I take care of them, and all they want to do is get away from me."

Frisk shook her head. "No, they don't," she said. "They love you too. But, sometimes, you can be scary."

"I don't  _try_  to be scary," Toriel said. "I'm trying to do what's best for my children."

"But what if what's best is to let them go?" Frisk asked. "Will you force them to stay with you? Will you make them do what they don't want?"

Toriel shook her head. "I want them to be happy, but . . ."

Frisk's tone softened. "Toriel, don't you think they love you too? Don't you think that they'd be more than willing to come visit you?"

Toriel chuckled bitterly. "But they can't. Once you walk through those doors, you can't return again."

"Oh," Frisk's plan was shaken. How else could she convince the woman to let go of those bitter feelings?

"What if you came with them?" she asked. "What if you came with me?"

Toriel gasped and a brightness lit her eyes that Frisk had never seen before. "Can I?"

Frisk stepped back and held out her hand. Immediately, Toriel's hand shot out to grab Frisk's, but just before she took hold, her hand faltered.

"Toriel, it's okay," Frisk shook her hand, urging Toriel to take it.

Toriel sighed and gave Frisk a broken smile. "No, I can't leave this place."

"Why not?" Frisk's smile wavered. "Just come with me."

Toriel smiled sadly and said, "You've already shown me so much kindness. And after all that I've done . . ." she sighed and looked down. "No, it wouldn't be right if I were to come along."

"Toriel . . .?"

Toriel smiled at the ground and raised her head to meet Frisk's eyes. Tears were forming again in her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "I'm so happy that you were able to give me what I wanted most. Thank you for showing me your love."

Toriel turned to go, but before she left, she remembered something. "Oh, you might need these if you plan on going out there." She handed Frisk the key to the doors and something else: a slice of really good smelling pie without the red gooey stuff. "It's butterscotch and cinnamon," she explained. "I made it earlier, and I thought you might have wanted to try some, since, you know . . ."

Frisk smiled and thanked Toriel. "Well," Toriel shuffled her feet. "I, um . . . I think I should give you a last word of advice.

"Whatever you do, don't trust your life with anyone out there, otherwise they will kill you," Toriel said seriously. "If you come across a problem that you can't solve, call me."

"Call you?" Frisk asked.

"With this," Toriel gave Frisk an old flip phone that hardly anyone still used on the surface. "It already has my number programed in."

"Thank you," Frisk's heart was filled with gratitude. "For everything."

Toriel still stood there, almost like she wanted to say one last thing. Instead, she kissed the top of Frisk's head and started to go.

"Toriel," Frisk called out.

Toriel turned back once.

Frisk smiled warmly. "I love you."

Toriel's cheeks warmed and she smiled gratefully. "I love you too, my child."

And with that, Toriel was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm finally back from California! And wow, I have not updated in awhile. Thank you for your patience, and thank you for reading!
> 
> I was wondering for a long time how Flowey's character was going to be, and I may have accidentally changed it while writing. In this he is kind, but with some of his usual sarcasm and a pinch of his short temper.
> 
> Also, I've been adding little puns here and there, just for the sake of puns, and only a few people have been finding them. I will be adding "intentional puns" later, but for now, you get to read my simple humor.


	7. The World is Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Flowey are surprised at seeing a wintery wonderland upon opening the door. Frisk is reminded of her past.

"What," Flowey asked, coming up to Frisk, "in the name of all that is holy, just happened?"

Frisk had collapsed to the floor soon after Toriel left, her legs burned worse than she had initially thought. Sitting on the floor, tears that she hadn't known were spilling from her eyes, plopped onto the cement. "Um . . ."

"Toriel just . . . let you go?" Flowey shook his head in bewilderment.

 Frisk nodded, still looking down the corridor.

"Wh . . . and what was with  _that_?" Flowey asked referring to the surprise attack hugging. "Are you  _crazy_?!"

Frisk inhaled and broke out of her trance. "What? Oh, yeah, I had a hunch and I followed it."

"A  _hunch_?" Flowey scoffed. "Seriously? You bet your life-- well,  _my_ life--on a  _hunch_?"

"Well, it's a good thing that hunch was right," Frisk said, lowering a hand for Flowey to climb.

"And what about your legs?" Flowey pointed out. "They look really bad . . ."

"I'll be okay," Frisk said. "Besides, we need to get going."

"You're right, we need to keep moving. You know, before Toriel changes her mind and forces you to stay."

Frisk looked back down the hall and shook her head. "No," she smiled. "I don't think she'll do that."

Flowey looked down at her legs again. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked. "Those burns . . ."

Frisk raised her hand and put Flowey on her right shoulder. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired is all."

Flowey didn't seem convinced, but he let the matter drop. "Okay, ready to go?" he asked.

Frisk held up the key. "I can't wait to get back home. They'll never believe  _this_  story!"

They turned to the doors and Frisk inserted the key. The lock caught with a  _clack_  and the doors swung wide open. "Well, let's get going!"

Frisk and Flowey walked into a weird, dirt covered room. In the center was a skylight illuminating a small hill. At the top of the hill stood an old, worn out sign that read: "IF YOU GO PAST THIS POINT, THERE IS NO RETURN."

"Well?" Flowey asked. "Are you ready to go?"

Frisk thought for a moment. Should she really go? What if there was some way back out from the hole she fell into? Although that was probably impossible, since it was such a long way down. And besides, climbing all the way back up would be physically impossible in any form.

She fingered the door key in her hand and thought. Was she really going to keep pressing forward? Would going forward actually take her home, or was she stuck down here forever?

The doors behind her squeaked, and she whirled around to see them closing on their own. On a split second decision, she threw the key through the doors and watched them close, her only sure way out gone forever.

"What'd you do that for?" Flowey asked.

"Just in case," Frisk answered.

"Just in case what?"

Frisk smiled. "Just in case Toriel changes her mind. Plus, I chose to move forward, so I'm moving forward."

 _Thank you_ , a voice said in her head gratefully. Her cheeks warmed and she smiled.

Frisk spun around and marched onward in the darkness, her flashlight still lighting the path. Up ahead were two more doors, these ones dark and plain. Frisk felt the surface: obsidian. She pushed until they swung open, and a blinding light penetrated Frisk's vision, leaving her blinking rapidly from the sudden change.

Cold.

So very, very cold. So cold, in fact, that Frisk's mind couldn't process how cold, just: cold. The freezing atmosphere around her chilled her to the bone, and bit at her with a ferocity she had never felt before, even during the winters back at home. The very air froze her lungs, and any hair that stood out was instantly frosted. The flowers that had bloomed on Frisk shook violently, making her body hurt from where they were positioned.

So: cold.

"How can anyone live in this type of weather?" Frisk shivered. She should have been more equipped for trekking in Antarctica instead of her casual wear.

Flowey's teeth chattered as he spoke, "I d-d-d-don't k-kn-kn-know, but I think I'm going to s-s-st-stay inside your sweater."

"Good idea," Frisk said as Flowey was already wrapping himself around her waist under her sweater. Not that the sweater would do much good, but at least he wouldn't have to be subjected to the biting winds.

Frisk moved forward, her boots crunching through the thick snow that blanketed the ground. It really was a beautiful place, what with the forest on either side and the blizzard making the world look like a winter wonderland. Well, minus the joyful people in thick, warm coats, their hands warming to hot chocolate.

Where  _were_  the people? Or, monsters, actually.  _They're probably smarter than I am and are inside warming by the fireplace._

Suddenly Frisk collapsed, her legs aching. "Ah!" she shouted. Looking down at her legs, she noticed the burns turning black.  _Frostbite_.

"What's wrong?" Flowey's voice was muffled by the wool sweater.

"I'm fine," Frisk's voice shook. "I just tripped."

Flowey slipped out from under the sweater and hopped onto Frisk's shoulder. "If I have learned anything from you, it's that you tend to cover up what you really mean." He inspected her head, then her arms and finally her legs. He went closer to get a full look and sucked in a small gasp. "I'll be right back," he said and hopped into the snow.

"Flowey, I'm fine, really," Frisk insisted.

"Stay here," he said, ignoring her. "And don't move. I'll be back with help, okay?"

"Flowey--"

"Okay?"

Frisk sighed and complied to the sentient flower's demands. "Good, now wait until I get back. Don't you dare move."

Flowey dove under the snow and was gone.

Frisk didn't know what to do at that point. If she did just sit and wait, she might freeze to death. But if she scooted around until Flowey came back, then maybe she could keep warm . . .

Frisk used her arms to push aside snow to make a small path she could scoot across. As she went to scoot, however, pain shot up her legs that was so intense she almost fainted. She gasped and stopped moving, letting her arms collapse under her weight. Now she was lying in the snow, her head just barely staying above the snow so she could look around.

It didn't take long for her eyes to grow heavy and for the snow to start feeling comfortable. Frisk groaned. That was never a good sign. She started to pinch herself to stay awake, knowing that if she closed her eyes they might not open again.

"Hey kiddo!" a young man's voice called out. Frisk looked up, but couldn't see anything in the flurry of snow. For a second, she thought she saw a flash of red and black, but her eyes were also beginning to blur, so it might've been her imagination. "You doin' alright?"

"Rudy?" Frisk asked before her head fell into the snow.

~}-{~

"Rudy?" Frisk asked with a smirk.

"Yeah!" Chuck, the neighborhood troublemaker and all-around know-it-all, looked left and right, checking for any suspicious people that may be listening in. Satisfied at spying no one, he continued. "He's got to be one of the worst people ever! He's really scary, and hates kids like us the most."

"So this Rudy guy kicked me out of my home?" Frisk scoffed. "He doesn't sound all that terrifying with a name like  _Rudy_."

"No, you don't understand," Chuck shivered. "He will  _kill_  if he thinks any profit'll come of it."

Frisk brushed off the comment. "So what?" she asked. "That jerk took my home, and I plan to take it back."

And with that, Frisk stormed off, Chuck trying to stop her. But she refused. She was going to take her home back even if it killed her.

 

Frisk reached her old home just before sunset, just enough shadow coverage to keep her hidden from seeking eyes. Peeking from behind the brick wall, Frisk looked into the alleyway, searching for Rudy.  _Where is he?!_

Frisk couldn't find Rudy anywhere in the alley. She huffed. "What the--"

Slowly moving out from her hiding spot, Frisk went deeper into the alley, looking around for anyone suspicious. Her stuff was still there in the corner. "What? I thought that 'Rudy' would have cleared out this place already."

Frisk knelt down and examined all of her items, but everything looked in order and just as she had left it. Frisk scoffed, "So he was just trying to scare me off or something? What is  _wrong_  with him?"

"Hey you!" a gruff voice called from behind Frisk. For a second she thought it was Rudy and was ready to talk his ears off, but his voice didn't sound the same. Nor did his speech. "What do you think you're doing in here!"

Frisk spun around so fast she felt her ankles protest at the sudden movement. A man with long hair and black clothes ran toward Frisk at a speed that was almost unnatural. Frisk didn't even have time to scream before he was holding her in the air by her throat.

"This is no place for a  _brat_!" the man said, squeezing tighter. Frisk's little legs flailed in the air, and she tried to shout for help, but no air was coming in or out of her lungs. She tried to pound the man's arm until he gave up and dropped her, but his strength only increased.

It wasn't long before Frisk's vision started to blacken and her arms to weaken. She went limp in the man's hand, and with the last bit of consciousness, she looked her attacker in the eye, not wanting to die with a sign of weakness.

"Hey!" a rock was thrown at the man's back and Frisk was dropped to the ground. She gasped for air and clutched at her neck. It took her a few minutes before she could look back up again, and in that amount of time, her attacker and rescuer were in a brawl.

At some point in the fight, the attacker pulled out a gun and aimed it at the rescuer's head, but the rescuer wasn't fazed. Fast as a bullet, his arm shot up and he disarmed the attacker in one movement. Then, the rescuer turned the gun on the attacker. "Now then, care to explain why you're attackin' a kid?" the rescuer asked.

Frisk gasped. She  _knew_  that voice. "Rudy?" her voice sounded weak, but the name came out clear as a bell.

Rudy's eyes didn't leave the attacker's for an instant, but he did hold his hand out for her to take. Frisk scrambled to her feet and took the hand, Rudy pushing her behind him in a protective manner. "Well?" Rudy asked the man once more.

The attacker smiled and fished something out of his pocket. "Ah!" Rudy warned him, but he didn't care. Whatever he was looking for in his pocket, he took out and put it in his mouth.

"Death to the Republic," the man said as he swallowed whatever-it-was. He grinned, foam beginning to explode from his mouth, and then he slumped to the ground, his last breath leaving his body.

Rudy checked for a pulse and cursed. He turned back around to inspect Frisk. "You alright, kid?"

Frisk bristled. "I'm fine! And I had everything under control until you came along . . ."

Rudy smirked. "Sure," he waved her over. "Here, I've got some things to help with the bruisin'."

Frisk eyed him cautiously and inched her way over to him.

"It's alright!" he chuckled. "I'm not gonna bite ya."

"Last time we were together in this alley, you said you'd kill me," Frisk remarked.

"Do you really think I'd save ya if I intended to kill ya later?" Rudy asked.

Frisk blushed in embarrassment. "W-well, I guess not . . . but then why did you kick me out of the alleyway?"

Rudy looked back down at the dead attacker and pointed. "This is why," he said, looking back up at Frisk and smiling. His teeth were still gross looking, but something seemed a bit off about them. "I knew that this guy was here--or was comin' here--so I took it upon myself to getcha outta here. That's all."

Frisk still didn't trust him, and he could see that in her eyes. "Look, kid, I'll tell ya everythin' if you let me fix you up."

Frisk didn't like the idea of getting too close to him, but at the same time she was really curious about what he would tell her. So, she made up her mind and sat down in front of him, her legs folding in underneath her.

"That's better," Rudy smiled. He held up a cold pack against her neck and allowed her to take hold of it. Next, he brought out gauze to wrap the bruises so they wouldn't get infected. As he was wrapping, Frisk held the cold pack awkwardly in her hands, her fingers beginning to numb. Once he was done, she put the pack against her neck again so it wouldn't swell.

"Thank you," she muttered.

Rudy smiled. "You are so much better lookin' when ya aren't angry."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Frisk said, irritated.

"Nothin'," Rudy sniffed. "So, I should probably be explainin' some things to ya."

Frisk nodded.

Rudy sighed. "Well, where do I start? First off, you can't be stayin' here anymore."

"Why?"

Rudy again pointed to the dead guy. "There's more like him sniffin' around this part of town. I noticed that a certain bad guy was lurkin' around, and took a great interest in your little hiding spot. So, I decided I'd scare you out instead of explainin' the details."

"But that's just a really round-about way of doing things," Frisk humphed. "Especially since I would have come again to get my home back."

"Well, I wasn't accountin' for that," Rudy chuckled. "I was really hoping that you'd just stay away since the 'mean old guy' that was 'known to hate kids your age' was holed up in your old spot."

"That was you?" Frisk asked. The memory of Chuck's words surfaced in her mind. He had said the exact same thing.

Rudy winked. "How else was I gonna keep you away, if not to spread rumors?"

"So," Frisk scratched her head, "all of this was just to keep me safe?"

Rudy took a deep breath. "Look, kid--"

"Frisk"

"I have a job," he ignored her. "A very scary job. And most of the time, I do it alone. No, this whole thing wasn't because I was just tryin' to keep you outta harms way, although that was what I was tryin' to do. But my job is to hunt down these guys," he kicked the dead man's leg, "and lock 'em up."

"Job? What kind of job--"

"So!" Rudy suddenly stood up, Frisk scrambling to follow suit. "I suppose you have to come with me now, since I told you my secrets."

"What?" Frisk asked.

"You heard me,  _Frisk_ ," he said her name mockingly. "You gotta come with me now, that way I make sure you don't spill my secrets."

"I still don't trust you," Frisk folded her arms in defiance. "Why would I come with you? You could hurt me, or starve me, or . . . something."

"You honestly believe I'd do something like that?" Rudy asked with feigned disbelief.

"Yes, I do," Frisk said. "How can I be sure that you won't do something to me? How can I be sure that your words are true?"

"You can't for certain," Rudy smiled. "In fact, it'd be better if you had that mindset for everyone you meet. Just because someone is nice doesn't mean that they're good. And just because someone's mean doesn't mean they're bad."

Frisk still didn't seem convinced, but she thrust out her hand. "Partners," she said.

"Partners?" Rudy chuckled. "Oh no, you're just taggin' along. No way--"

"Shake on partners, and I'll believe you," Frisk insisted.

Rudy eyed her hand in suspicion, but eventually gave in and shook her hand firmly. His hand was much bigger than Frisk's and much more calloused. But the callouses were all in weird spots, like on the tip of his pointer finger and at the base of his thumb.

"Good, now we can leave," Rudy said, his brisk pace forcing Frisk to jog to keep up.

~}-{~

Frisk woke with a jolt, her head hurting from the sudden memories. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Wait . . ." Frisk's face paled when she touched her left eye. A flower had bloomed over it, and now she couldn't see out of it. She was blind in one eye . . .

"No . . ." Frisk gripped the flower on her eye and started to pull. "No! No no no no no! Get off! GET OFF!"

"Frisk!" Flowey's voice shouted on her right. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Frisk was pulling so hard on the flowers that blood started to trickle down her face. But she didn't care; she was getting her eye back whether the flowers agreed or not.

"Frisk, STOP!" Flowey wrapped several vines around her arms and pulled her hands away from her face.

"No!" Frisk shouted. "I can't stop!"

"Frisk, tell me what's wrong! Why are you hurting yourself?"

"I don't want to be blind!" she sobbed.

 

After Flowey had cleaned up Frisk's face and she had calmed down, Frisk looked around at where they were. "Why're we back in the Ruins?" she asked.

"Well, it's not  _really_  the Ruins," Flowey said. He was already using his white pellets to heal Frisk's legs. She had told him not to, but, being stubborn, Flowey had refused and forced the young woman to sit on the ground and let him take care of her. "It's that place right after Toriel's basement."

"Regardless," Frisk said, "it's not in the frozen wonderland we were in before. Nor is it in Toriel's house. Does that mean that there are like . . . checkpoints or something?"

"Checkpoints?"

"Nevermind." Frisk shook her head. "Just something I'm reminded of . . ."

"Ah, I see."

As soon as Flowey patched her up to the best of his ability, Frisk opened the obsidian door once more and headed out into the snowstorm. This time, instead of collapsing a few yards away from the door, Frisk was able to move forward with only a little sting in her legs. Frisk properly thanked Flowey and was able to see his trademark grin, the one she had come to love so much.

Frisk wondered if he was okay in this weather. It was really cold, and he was just a small flower. She had even felt him shiver a few times under her sweater. And since he had used up most of his energy to heal her . . . was he really going to be alright?

She decided to take a short rest at a nearby tree, putting her arms around her body to heat it up a bit more. Flowey didn't say anything, but she heard a soft sigh of relief when her body temperature started to rise.

Frisk frowned. Maybe it was too dangerous for Flowey to be out here afterall.

"Heya, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It makes me happy, seriously. And I think my writing has improved a lot over the course of just a few chapters. I know it can improve more, and I'm grateful for the support everyone has given me. :D


	8. Comedic Value

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Flowey come across a living skeleton named Sans who loves bad puns. Can they trust him?

"Heya, kid," a voice spoke to their right. Frisk whipped her head around to look at who spoke, a nostalgic feeling building in her chest. What she saw was slightly alarming.

Standing a few feet away was a six foot tall, darkly dressed . . . living . . . skeleton. He had his hands in the pockets of his black jacket, and a lazy look on his face, but Frisk could see a fire in his eyes that proved he could do damage if the need arose.

_Wait, eyes?_

He didn't really have "eyes", he had something more like little white LED light bulbs in his eye sockets. The only strange thing was that they grew and shrunk in size as he looked at Frisk. And the way that he looked at her gave her a really bad feeling.

Something flashed on his chest, and Frisk noticed a gold chain over a red turtleneck shirt. On the chain was a gold star like pendant, and it flew around in the cold wind.

He grinned at her, though she assumed he couldn't do otherwise. His teeth were sharp and one was gold. It gleamed menacingly in the light. "How ya been?" he asked.

"Who are you," Flowey wrapped a leaf around Frisk's forearm. "What do you want?"

The skeleton looked at Flowey and his sockets grew wider. Frisk thought the look was "surprise", though how he made his skull contort like that, Frisk had no idea.

"Your spokesperson is a talkin' plant?" his white eyes looked to Frisk. "You _orchidding_ me."

"I'm not the 'spokesperson'!" Flowey grumped. "I'm her guardian and guide!"

"Pfft," the skeleton put a hand to his mouth, and Frisk saw that his hands had solid bones for the palms, then the fingers branched out and were separated like normal finger bones. _Weird._

"Don't laugh!" Flowey frowned, getting atop Frisk's head. The young woman had yet to speak a word, sitting there in confusion. Didn't Toriel say that the other monsters were just as terrifying as her, if not worse? This guy just looked like he was a joker and a playful person. Then again, the first look he had given her freaked her out.

The skeleton held his stomach with his other hand and tried not to laugh, but he was anyways. "Can't help it, little guy," he chuckled. "It's just too funny. A flower . . . protectin' a human? Ha! Best joke I've heard all day."

Flowey glared hard at the skeleton. "It's not funny. I can protect her just fine, thank you."

"What's up with the flowers, sweetheart?" the skeleton asked Frisk, ignoring Flowey. He motioned to the buttercups on her face.

Frisk winced. She hated the nickname _sweetheart_. It was supposed to be used endearingly, and yet it was always used to mock her. "Is it a new fashion or somethin'? I'm never up to date on those. Besides, I would've thought somethin' more 'dark' and 'menacing' were the latest fashions."

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Flowey bounced angrily on Frisk's head.

"Well, I'm not talkin' to you, _petal face_ ," the skeleton smirked.

"I'm going to kill you," Flowey shot a look of pure hatred at the skeleton. "And no one will care if I do."

The skeleton kept the same face, but his eyes dimmed slightly. Had the remark hurt his feelings?

"Flowey, that's enough," Frisk reached up to take hold of the sentient flower. Flowey grudgingly complied and wrapped his roots around Frisk's hand. "Let's leave Mister Skeleton alone now."

"Mister Skeleton?" the skeleton scoffed. "I have a name, you know."

"Oh?" Frisk said, standing up. "But what if I like calling you Mister Skeleton?"

"The name's Sans," the skeleton held out his hand. "Sans the skeleton."

Frisk didn't take the hand. She didn't know who he was, or if he'd try to hurt her. So, instead she smiled and said, "I'm Frisk. Frisk the human."

An awkward silence fell between the two as Sans stood there with his hand out. "Well?" he asked. "Don't you know how to greet a person? First you shake, then you make friends."

Frisk still didn't take the hand. The skeleton seemed nice, and said he wanted to be friends, but she didn't like the smile on his face. Maybe it was all a ploy to get her to trust him. Or maybe he really did want to be her friend. Either way, Frisk decided to keep her guard up. Living on the streets usually did that to a person.

_Rudy taught me that not all nice people are good, and not all mean people are bad. Just because this skeleton is nice doesn't mean he has good intentions._

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I don't know what you might do to me, so I won't take your hand."

Sans' smile lessened. _Oh, so he can frown_. His hand lowered and was stuffed back into his pocket. "I see . . ." he grinned. "Pfft. What's with that? Are you some kind of _humerus_ duo?"

_Why so many bad puns?_

"Well, follow me for now, got it?" Sans said, walking back the way he had come. "You don't have to, but your chances of survival are gonna increase if ya do tag along. In this weather, I'd be surprised if you weren't chilled to the _bone_."

Frisk propped Flowey on her shoulder and cautiously followed behind Sans. He had a point about her chances of survival. If he were to actually help, then Frisk might be able to find shelter for the night. It was . . . what time was it? Frisk had died so many times . . . did the clock turn back during those times? Or did time continue? Because it would have been days if it had continued, but Frisk didn't feel exhausted yet. Then again, adrenalin was keeping her going at this point, so she had no idea if she was actually tired or not.

"Frisk, I don't like that guy," Flowey whispered in her ear. "The way he looks at us is really annoying, and I don't think he means well."

"He's the best we have at the moment, Flowey," Frisk whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "He knows his way around, and we could use that to our advantage."

"But I'm the guide," he pointed out.

"Do you know this area well enough?" Frisk asked.

"Well . . ."

"I think that we should stick with Sans for the time being, until we can at least get to some shelter. After that . . . well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Frisk hopped over a large rock, Sans ahead by a yard. If he got too far ahead, Frisk wouldn't be able to see him anymore, and that would be a problem.

 _Save them_ , the Voice in her head whispered. The Voice--as Frisk now called it--had been saying that ever since Frisk opened the two doors, once every day. But since she met Sans, the voice had been repeating it everytime the young woman thought about the strange skeleton. Even if she pictured his gold tooth in her head, the voice would softly whisper _save them_.

Sans stopped near a snow bank and looked back, smirking at the two behind him. Then, he hopped up and over the bank like a mountain goat, leaving Frisk and Flowey behind.

Frisk followed, the snow shifting under her weight. How on earth did Sans get up so fast?

"Hey!" Frisk called out, her hand cupping her mouth. "Mister Skeleton! You're too far ahead!"

She finally got to the top and started heading down the other side, the wind blowing at her fiercely. She couldn't see the living skeleton anywhere ahead of her, which was very troubling.

"I told ya, the name's Sans!" he called back, Frisk still not able to locate him. He sounded like he was everywhere at once. "And you two are just too slow. I'm lazy, and even I'm faster than you!"

"Well, we've--whoa!"

Frisk slipped on the snow and fell, the ground no longer there. Instead, a large, black abyss loomed in front of her, dropping deeper than she could see. She was falling off a cliff.

She threw out her arms and desperately grabbed at the sides of the rocky cliff for a hold, her nails clawing and fingers bleeding. But as soon as the blood left the wounds, the drops froze and fell down into the deep abyss below her.

"H-hold on, Frisk!" Flowey scrambled up the side of the cliff, his roots digging deep into the cracks and hoisting him up. He lowered a root down for Frisk to climb once he reached the top, and she gratefully accepted it.

"You shoulda been more careful, sweetheart," Sans said, his shoes crunching in the snow. He appeared over Flowey, whose face was turning red from the strain of pulling Frisk up. Sans leaned over the side and grinned evilly. "You know," he said, "if you could just give me your soul, this whole problem could be fixed and things could go back to normal."

 _Why does everyone keep talking about souls?_ Frisk wondered. _And what does he mean by "go back to normal"?_

"Well, it's too bad, but I'm gonna havta take your soul once I reach the bottom of the cliff," Sans said, his smile never failing. "You really shouldn't trust people so easily, _buttercup._ "

Sans lifted his hand and red flames began to dance between his fingertips. Flowey suddenly lit up with those same flames, making the flower shout in alarm. And then, to Frisk's amazement, Flowey was levitated off the ground, his roots being forcefully pulled out, and was held over the edge of the cliff.

"See you at the bottom, sweetheart."  

Frisk and Flowey fell like stones to their impending doom, the wind rippling through them like daggers. Sharp, thin icicles of frozen water battered at them, and Flowey's petals were being shredded. Frisk twisted her body mid-air and reached out an arm, gripping Flowey's stem and pulling him under the safety of her arms, shielding him from the wind.

She didn't even have time to scream before her head hit something and she was knocked out.

 

When Frisk came to, she was lying in the snow, Flowey wrapped tightly in her arms. _W-what just happened?_ she thought.

She sat up, her head instantly pounding. "Ow, ow, ow," she hissed. "What did I hit my head on?"

She checked herself for any new buttercups, but failed in detecting one. "And how am I alive?"

As she shifted, she felt something poke her lower back. Looking down, she saw a severed root sticking out of the snow, another one wrapped firmly around her waist. Did . . . did Flowey save her?

"Flowey," Frisk shook him, but he didn't respond. His eyes were closed and dust seemed to be collecting on his head. "Hey, wake up. Flowey."

Still no response. She shook him harder. "Flowey? Hey! Wake up!"

Something fell into the snow next to her, creating a snow cloud that blew over her. It was a large, severed root.

Far above Frisk's head was a canopy of roots that was protruding from the cliff face, a large hole in the center. The hole looked like it was large enough for Frisk to fit through.

"Flowey?"

Her companion didn't move or speak, his petals hashed and his roots missing. All that was left was a stem and a face, which didn't change. Slowly, the bottom of his stem started turning to dust until all Frisk held was a pile of dust.

"F-Flowey?" Frisk's voice shook. "Hey, why isn't anything happening? Shouldn't you say something? Shouldn't time start over again? W-Why is it only me? Why am I the only one . . ."

"Heh," Sans's voice sounded behind Frisk. "Who woulda thought you'd be alive. Lucky your friend died to save ya. Too bad it'll be in vain."

 _Died_. Frisk's mind shut down. _Flowey died. Why aren't we back in the room with the sign yet? He's gone. He's gone. He's--_

"Hey, sweetheart," Sans said, irritated. He stopped a few feet behind Frisk, waiting for her to say something.

"Why?" Frisk mumbled.

"Whatcha say?"

"Why is it only me?" she said. "Why am I the only one who can come back? Why not Flowey?"

Sans stood above her and looked down at her shivering form. "Whaddya mean?" he asked.

"H-How come I can come back, but no one who remembers can? Isn't that too harsh? Or is it my punishment? Are we being punished?"

Sans frowned. "I dunno what you're spoutin', but I think I should take your soul now before you lose your mind," Sans said, his clothes shifting as he raised his arm. Suddenly, Frisk's stomach erupted in pain as she was impaled by a sharp bone. Blood soaked her sweater and dripped off the bone onto the snow. Frisk thought that red contrast against the pure snow looked beautiful.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Sans said softly. "This is a mercy. If I take your soul now, you won't have to die by the hands of someone worse. Just . . . trust me on this one."

Frisk looked back at her attacker. She should've known better. She _did_ know better. She let her guard down for only an instant, and now . . .

She coughed, crimson splattering on the snow violently. Frisk chuckled. "Wow," she said in a shaky voice. "I . . . really am a fool, Rudy."

"Now die and give up your soul," Sans said darkly. "And everything can go back . . ."

Frisk smiled up at Sans, surprising the skeleton. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I don't think you _can_ take my soul."

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowing. "Whaddya mean? Are you sayin' that you still have some fight in ya? 'Cuz it looks to me like you're about ready to drop dead."

"Nah," Frisk giggled, which was a mistake since she coughed up more blood. "Mister Skeleton, you can't take my soul because I'm paying for my sin, and my soul won't go anywhere until I finish my punishment. I don't even know if that will happen. Ha ha--ugh."

"Wha--?"

"Goodbye, Mister Skeleton," Frisk smile through teary eyes. "I hope we meet again. Your jokes were really funny."

"Wait, what--?!"

Frisk's world went dark before she woke up again in the room with the sign, a buttercup blossoming on her right elbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was short, but I wrote and rewrote it so many times wondering if it was good enough. Hopefully it works?


	9. Royal Knights and Freezing Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is reminded of her past in a dream. She and Flowey get past Sans without too much trouble. What awaits them in the blizzard?

"Frisk, don't leave this spot, and don't speak," Rudy commanded. "Even if someone comes and tells you it's okay, don't move or utter a word until I come back."

"What if you don't come back?" Frisk asked in a shaky voice.

Rudy smiled. "I'll come back I promise."

You didn't listen~

"Rudy?!" Frisk shouted, hearing gunshots and screams. "Rudy where are you!"

"Frisk!" Rudy's panicked voice was barely audible over the sound of gunfire. Frisk moved out from her hiding place-a wooden box-and searched for Rudy. The box was immediately filled with bullet holes as the owner of the gun shot at the nine year old.

Frisk covered her head with her arms and ducked into an alley, seeking shelter from the firefight.

"Hey, there, pretty girlie," a large, angry looking man towered over the little girl, a crazy smile on his lips. He proceeded to pull out a large knife, the blade gleaming in the moonlight. "Wanna play a game? If you win, I won't kill you."

Frisk screamed as the man attacked her, knife leading. "Rudy! Help me! Please!"

Rudy ran into the alley as fast as he could to save her, a few of his comrades holding back men that were trying to follow, but he'd never make it in time. Frisk was going to die.

Suddenly, a gun appeared in her hand, and, without thinking, she shot three times at the scary man, trying desperately to get away from him. Silence, then blood.

Blood everywhere. Blood on the walls. Blood pooled on the ground and onto Frisk's shoes. Oozing from the scary man's forehead, jaw, and shoulder. Splashed across Frisk's face and dripping from her hands.

"Frisk?" Rudy asked, a look of shock on his face. "What . . . What have you done?"

"Rudy . . ." Frisk hiccuped. "I didn't . . . I wouldn't . . . what . . . "

He doesn't trust you anymore~

"Frisk, give me the gun," Rudy held out his sturdy hand, waiting for Frisk to hand over the weapon.

He doesn't like you anymore~

"Rudy, I . . ."

"The gun, Frisk. Now."

With shaking hands, Frisk held out the gun, the blood on her hands thick and smooth. Rudy swiftly grabbed the gun, Frisk jerking her hand back in fear. "Rudy, I'm sorry-"

Rudy turned his back and walked away, his body language saying Don't talk to me.

"Rudy . . ."

Frisk looked at her hands, now wiped clean from all the washing over the years. But in her eyes, they were still drenched in the crimson fluid.

~}-{~

"Rudy . . . don't leave," Frisk sniffled. "Please . . . come back . . ."

"Frisk!" Flowey's voice echoed in her mind. "Frisk, wake up!"

But then she realized the voice wasn't in her head. "Flowey . . .?"

Frisk's blue eyes fluttered open, tears still falling from her face. Was all of that just a bad dream?

The dark side of her mind said, Those were your memories, Frisk.

"Oh thank goodness," a leaf wrapped around her cheek and Frisk was met face-to-face with Flowey. "I thought you wouldn't wake up."

"Flowey?" Frisk's eyes widened. "Flowey!"

The young woman sat up abruptly, Flowey falling to the ground from where he was perched on her chest. "Whoa!" he said as he tumbled. "Careful! Delicate flower, here!"

"You're alive!" Frisk's arms wrapped tightly around the little buttercup in a hug. "You're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm a little surprised about that too," Flowey chuckled. "But I remind you: fragile flower."

"Sorry, sorry," Frisk pulled back and looked the flower up and down, checking for injuries. The flower really had been beaten pretty bad over the course of their time together. At the moment, he had a few tears in his leaves and cuts on his petals. His face was scratched and bruised. His stem was disfigured, and his roots drooped. Maybe it would have been better if he had stayed in the Ruins . . .

But then she saw his smile. His kind, warm smile. He wasn't mad at her, or scared, or crying. He was sincerely supporting her with his might and helping her. When did he change so fast?

"Hey, you don't look frightened anymore," Frisk mumbled.

Flowey blushed. "Yeah, I guess that's what happens when you die for the first time. Kinda makes you realize that you don't have to be so scared."

Frisk's heart felt heavy with guilt. She didn't want Flowey to realize those thoughts, or to feel that way about those things. He was too innocent . . .

"Hey, what's wrong?" Flowey's voice was filled with concern. "You look sad. Did something happen before I woke up again here?"

"No, not much," Frisk smiled sadly. "Sans just said a few more puns and I died again."

Flowey grimaced. "I knew we couldn't trust that guy," he said through gritted teeth.

Frisk said nothing. What Flowey said was true, after all. They shouldn't have let their guard down . . . no, Frisk shouldn't have let her guard down. Flowey was very cautious, but Frisk was a little more open to the comedic skeleton. And because of that, she not only risked Flowey's life, but was also reminded of things she didn't want to remember. Things that scared her.

"This time, I'll definitely kill him," Flowey growled. The anger in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Was the flower always this intense?

"No," Frisk said firmly.

"What?" Flowey's eyes softened to a quizzical look. "What do you mean? He doesn't deserve-"

"It doesn't matter what he deserves or not," Frisk stated. "Killing is wrong."

"Frisk . . ." Flowey's face looked disgusted. "How is it so wrong when it's in defense? And besides, isn't it time we fought back?"

Frisk shook her head. "No. I won't let you kill anyone."

"Frisk, these people are killing you," the sentient flower said.

"And does that make them right?" Frisk countered. "You think we'll be any better than them if we resort to something so low?"

"What's wrong with you?" Flowey asked.

Frisk put the flower on the ground and looked down. "I'm sorry. I just feel uncomfortable when people say things like that. Especially you."

"Oh . . ."

~}-{~

The winds were less chilly now that Frisk was used to it. They had been walking for hours, Flowey tucked underneath her sweater and Frisk's socks pulled as high as they would go to block out some of the cold. She didn't dare stop for fear of being found by Sans, and so she walked through the woods, not knowing where she was headed or where the trail would end. But it was better than being left at the mercy of a living, punny skeleton who had the urges to murder people.

It wasn't long before Frisk found a bridge that spanned across a chasm so deep and long that she couldn't see either the bottom of the chasm nor the other side of the bridge through the fog. The wooden bridge, linked together with frozen rope, looked worn almost to the point of falling apart. It was a wonder it hadn't broken long ago to fall into the darkness. Frisk guessed that the ice had something to do with it, but then again the ice felt thin when she had touched it. Perhaps the bridge was on it's last strings, and would soon collapse should she attempt to go across.

"What do we do from here?" Frisk asked Flowey, who had come out to look around when Frisk stopped.

"Well, the bridge looks safe enough," said he. Just to be safe, he brought out a root and tested the bridge's durability. The wood groaned, but didn't crack. Flowey shrugged.

"I'll take that as an okay," Frisk said and stepped onto the bridge. Flowey tucked himself once again up under her sweater for warmth as Frisk traversed across the treacherous bridge.

The bridge swayed in the frosty wind, Frisk gripping the roped sides to keep from tumbling down. Flowey grunted when an especially nasty gale tipped the bridge almost completely sideways, forcing him to wrap his roots tightly around Frisk and the bridge. "Thanks," Frisk commented before carrying on.

By the time Frisk reached the other side of the bridge, her arms and legs were shaking from exhaustion and her eyelids were going heavy. Sleep sounded really good, and she was warm, too, from all the exercise she went through. A blast of warm air suddenly blew past, filling Frisk with a sense of peace and rejuvenating willpower. "Whoa, what was that?"

"What was what?" Flowey asked, poking his head out. "Danger? Monsters? Danger?! Point me in the direction, lemme at 'em!"

"It's okay," Frisk giggled. "I just felt . . . I don't know. Peaceful, I guess? It was a really warm feeling . . ."

Flowey raised a "brow" and slowly checked the surrounding area one last time before blushing and going back under Frisk's sweater. "Let me know if you come across trouble," he said timidly.

Frisk frowned. The cold had come back in full force, stronger now that she had felt the slightest relief. She shivered and rubbed her arms. This was going to be a long trip.

Frisk and flowey had traveled for over an hour with no civilization in sight. Frisk was starting to feel it was pointless; all she could see was white, black, and the rare sight of an evergreen tree that wasn't completely covered in snow.

"Urgh!" Frisk knelt into the snow and shouted, her frustration expelling with each yell. Luckily, the high winds blocked out most of her screams.

When she was done, she sat there for a minute, panting. Breathing in the crisp air and exhaling it in a cloud of air, Frisk began to calm down. "What am I doing? What am I still doing here? Was I trying to go "home"? No, that place isn't my home . . . I was trying to leave that place and go to Peru . . . right?"

Flowey popped up out of her sweater. "Pe . . . ru? What's that?"

Frisk looked down at her friend's confused face and smiled. She had forgotten that he had lived underground for most of his life; he wouldn't know where Peru was.

"It's a country on the coast of South America. It's a place I have to go to, no matter what."

"South America? Is that on the surface?"

Frisk nodded. "Peru is also warm."

"Warm . . . sounds like a lovely place . . . better than this cold world . . ."

"It also has jungles that you could get lost in. And cool animals that are hard to find elsewhere. And . . ."

And my most important person is there somewhere. Will I ever see . . .?

Flowey, upon noticing Frisk's saddened face, suddenly asked, "Hey, Frisk, what is life like on the surface? Are people happy? Are humans scary like in the stories?"

Frisk blinked a few times, wondering what she should tell her flowery companion. Well, it was true that there were happy people. Frisk was one of them for a time.

"Well, there are still wars," Frisk started. "They've made a lot of changes and advances recently, and I suppose that a few can be scary. But for the most part, everyone is happy."

Flowey nodded his yellow hand and ducked down under her sweater again. "I hope we can see that someday . . ." said he as he cuddled up close to Frisk.

Frisk continued her trek in the snow. Up ahead, she could see some black silhouette. It looked like a giant box, and as she got closer, she could see it was something like a sentry station. Upon closer inspection, there was an inscription in the wood. It read

STOP THERE, HUMAN! IT IS I, THE ROYAL KNIGHT OF THIS DISTRICT! IF I EVER SEE YOU, YOU WILL BE KILLED ON SIGHT!

Frisk chuckled at the odd note and rummaged around the station, looking for something that might come in handy. All she found were bottles of ketchup and mustard. "Weird . . ."

"STOP THERE!" a gruff voice shouted up ahead. Frisk froze and Flowey was out again in a flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is taking a lot out of me. So, I might not update regularly or to a certain schedule. But don't worry, I will finish this story. I will!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. The "Great" Papyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk meets Papyrus . . . as well as another mysterious soul . . .

"STOP THERE!" a gruff voice shouted up ahead. Frisk froze and Flowey was out again in a flash.

"Bro, calm down a bit, will ya?" a familiar, lackadaisical voice sounded. _Sans_. "It's just a rabbit."

"THAT JACK RABBIT ALMOST TRIPPED ME. IT NEEDS TO DIE!"

The booming voice of the other bombarded Frisk's ears. It hurt, but it also cleared her mind enough to realize she needed to hide.

But _where_?

"Heh," Sans huffed. "You could almost say--"

"DON'T--"

"--it _jacked_  ya up! Hah!"

"THAT--"the loud voice stopped as the owner thought for a moment. At the same moment, Frisk found a giant rock to hide behind, and she scrambled through the snow and over a small mound to get behind it as fast as she could while still being as quiet as possible. "THAT ACTUALLY WASN'T THAT BAD."

She listened for a minute as the two continued their conversation, holding her breath and biting her lip. Had they heard her? Had they seen her?

Their footsteps came to a halt, the shuffling snow stilling. Flowey put up a defensive stance and perched himself on her shoulder while Frisk tried to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. It wasn't too hard; for the most part, Sans and the other guy were too focused on other things to really spot her.

Right?

"SANS, WHAT IS THIS?!" the loud voice was even louder up close. Frisk put her hands to her eardrums. Didn't anyone ever tell him that he spoke too loud? Maybe not.

"Paps, relax, it's just a snow drift," Sans's lazy voice carried over the wind and into Frisk's mind. She shuddered, still remembering what he said the last time they were together.

_"Now die and give up your soul," Sans said darkly. "And everything can go back . . ."_

Die and give up her soul? People kept saying that. And how would it help, them having her soul? Really, it was rather odd, especially since her's was so tainted.

Maybe they wanted to eat it? Her soul might have been tasty--she didn't know what souls tasted like--but she doubted it would be of any use other than a snack.

And that part about going back? What was that about? Go back to what?

"I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE," the booming voice shattered through her thoughts and brought her back to reality. "DON'T CALL ME THAT. CALL ME 'THE GREAT PAPYRUS'!"

Papyrus? These names were getting stranger and stranger as time went on. She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Almost.

Papyrus--she could see him now, another skeleton, taller than Sans and dressed in the most villain-worthy apparel she had ever seen, decked out in black and blood red battle armour--stood at his full height, towering over the smaller skeleton by at least two feet. Frisk noticed his boots and wondered if they had something to do with his height; surely he wasn't naturally eight feet tall, right? But then again, she had seen basketball players that were just as tall--if not taller--than the scary skeleton in front of her.

Papyrus's teeth were sharpened into fangs, just like Sans's, and a large crack ran over his left eye socket. Frisk assumed it was supposed to be a scar of sorts. Where did he get it? Was it self inflicted, an accident, or a battle scar? He definitely looked like he had been in war, or had at least seen battle.

"WHAT'S THIS, THIS RIGHT HERE?" Papyrus asked Sans, pointing at the snow mound Frisk had hastily traversed over only a few seconds previous. She cursed at herself mentally for being such a fool. She should have tried to cover her tracks or something, but in her haste--and with the fear of discovery--the rational idea was at the back of her mind. 

There, on the top of the mound, was her footprint, with dents in the snow to signal a hasty retreat. It was as clear as day, the wind blowing the bottom of the mound and leaving the top wide open for the world to see. Frisk was so screwed.

Sans studied it for a moment and said helpfully, "Welp, that's a footprint."

"YES, SANS, I KNOW IT'S A FOOTPRINT!" Papyrus sighed. "HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M RELATED TO A PIECE OF TRASH LIKE YOU."

"Ah, but ya admit I'm your _blood_  relation," Sans smiled wide at his own joke, but Papyrus just frowned deeply (how?).

"AND I REGRET IT IMMENSELY," Papyrus turned back to the print, which was pointed right to where Frisk sat, begging the heavens to let some miracle happen so she wouldn't be found. Papyrus's eyes narrowed in her direction, and Frisk didn't move. Fear clamped her in place, her body freezing in terror.

What would he do if he found her? Would he kill her on sight? Or would it be slow and very, very painful?

Sans stared in her direction as well, and he instantly saw her. His sockets widened in surprise and let out a small gasp. "WHAT? WHAT IS IT?" Papyrus whipped back around to Sans.

_Oh sh--_

Sans quickly looked away and pointed into the trees. "I think I saw the rabbit. Best be goin' after it, right?"

_What?_

"WHAT? REALLY?" Papyrus looked off in the direction Sans pointed while the smaller skeleton turned his attention back to Frisk. He glared at her, and she felt a shiver run up her spine.

_I'm not out of danger yet . . ._

"I'LL COME BACK LATER," Papyrus trotted after the "rabbit", leaving Frisk, Flowey, and Sans alone.

Flowey raised his vines as Sans stalked towards them, the permanent grin on his face slowly dropping as he came closer.

"So," Sans said as he came to a stop next to Frisk's hiding place. He stood over her, arms folded. "You wanna be explaining some things?"

Frisk gulped, standing and bracing a hand against the rock. Shaking visibly, she started, "Look--"

"Stay back!" Flowey threatened, hissing and growling. His vines wrapped protectively around Frisk, which she found comforting, but unneeded to the current situation.

Sans's eyebrow lifted--or at least what Frisk thought was where his eyebrow would be. He seemed unamused by the flower's attempts.

"Flowey," Frisk held up her hand, and the flower went back into a defensive position, but that didn't mean he wasn't totally off guard. He knew what Sans was capable of--they both did--and he wasn't taking any chances. He voiced as such.

"I know what you can do, trash bag," the flower spat. "And I'm prepared for anything you might throw our way."

"Don't know what you're talkin' about, weed," Sans said. "This should be the first time we've officially met."

Flowey bit his "lip".

_So he doesn't remember, either._  Frisk sighed.

Something flickered in Sans's eyes, but it vanished just as it had appeared. "Well?" he asked. "Are ya gonna tell me why you're hangin' out behind a rock _right by my brother's scout station_?"

"Uh . . ." Frisk rubbed her arm. It was cold, really cold, and Sans's voice was almost the same temperature. "I didn't know where I was?"

She really hoped it didn't sound like a question. It did.

"Y'ain't sure if ya knew where ya were?" Sans scoffed. "Seriously?"

"Hey!" Frisk protested. "I'm new around here!"

She hadn't realized it, but she was slowly slipping back into her New York accent the more she spent time with Sans. It was embarrassing, especially since she had been trying so hard to get rid of her old habits. Rudy had even changed with her, laughing that it was "a good bonding time" with her.

She blushed. Sans's "eyebrow" raised. She blushed harder.

Sans mumbled, "Whatever . . ." and the smile came back once more, bigger than before. "Hey, sweetheart, ya should always keep yer guard up, ya neva know when somethin' might sneak up on ya."

Frisk's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Suddenly she was lifted into the air and turned around. "HUMAN!" Papyrus grinned cruelly. "I'VE FOUND YOU AT LAST! HAHA! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS CAPTURED A HUMAN!"

Frisk paled and gulped. She shivered and tried to get out of Papyrus's grip, flailing around, but his hold was too strong.

Flowey wrapped his vines around Papyrus's arms and squeezed, trying to crush them and free Frisk. The taller skeleton merely waved his arms and threw Flowey away.

"Flowey!" Frisk called after her friend as he was tossed out of sight.

Papyrus began choking Frisk, holding her high above the ground like she was a prize. "HA HA! FINALLY! THE GLORY IS _MINE_!"

Tears ran down Frisk's cheeks. _This really is my punishment_. She gave one last, pleading look to Sans. _Help me . . . please_.

Sans's "eyebrows" furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Frisk heard a _snap!_ and pain registered for only a few seconds before she died of a broken neck.

_Someone . . . please._

_Rudy . . ._

...

Frisk couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. All was silent. All was dark. 

Silence. A dull, noiseless silence that held nothing at all. A silence that left her feeling as if she were deaf. A silence that left her cold and afraid.

Darkness. A void that swallowed light and devoured hope. A blackness so empty that Frisk could tell that there was nothing at all, just her and this thick, horrible darkness.

Frisk closed her eyes tightly, wishing it would all just _disappear_.

_Please . . . help me . . ._

_. . ._

_I_ _will help you._

_Who said that?_ Frisk wondered.

_Open your eyes. I am here._

Frisk opened her eyes slowly to see a small girl sitting on the ground. She had light brown hair and red eyes, a kind smile on her face. "Hello," she said.

Confused, Frisk sat up and pulled her knees in close. "H-Hello . . . Who are you?"

The girl held out a little hand for Frisk to shake. "My name is Chara," she smiled wide.

Frisk looked at the girl's hand and cautiously took it, nervous that she might try to hurt her. The girl had a firm grip and easily shook their hands up and down. "N-Nice to meet you, Chara . . ." Frisk pulled her hand back to her side.

Chara said, "I've been trying to talk to you face to face for a while now . . . But you wouldn't come to me. I was starting to get worried that you never would . . ."

"You . . . wait a minute . . . Are you . . . C?" Frisk asked.

Chara tilted her head to the side, then her eyes widened. "Have you found my messages?"

Frisk nodded. "W-Well, only the one . . . in Toriel's house."

"Oh . . ." the other girl smiled softly. "So you've met my mother?"

"Your mother?"

Chara nodded. "Yeah, she adopted me. But . . ." She stopped and looked away.

"S-So," Frisk awkwardly tried to change the conversation. She locked her lips, trying to figure out what to say. "Um . . ."

But Chara changed it for her. She gave Frisk a large smile and said, "You're probably really confused about what's happening."

Frisk looked up into her eyes. "This isn't some cruel game used to entertain some sadistic crazy person?"

Chara shook her head. "No," she took Frisk's hand. "You have a purpose here, Frisk."

". . . Am I meant to be punished?"

Another shake, followed by a smile. "You're here to save them," Chara squeezed Frisk's hand. "You can do what I couldn't."

The words were familiar to Frisk. _Save them . . ._  "Save them? But . . . what does that mean?"

"You were sent here to be a guiding light," Chara explained. "You're here to--"

Chara fizzled in and out of focus, like static on a television.

"Chara?" Frisk grasped Chara's hand, but it seemed to feel like it was almost gone, too. "Chara, what's wrong?"

"Frisk--I--not going--be here--but--"

"Wh-What's going on?" Frisk tried to hold onto the smaller girl, begging her with her eyes to _stay_. She wanted to talk more. She wanted to learn more about what Chara meant. She didn't want to be alone . . .

But then Chara vanished without a trace, like she wasn't even real. Like she was a ghost. Tears came to Frisk's eyes. "Chara?"

There was no answer, just like Frisk guessed. She was completely and utterly alone. She once again curled up and hugged her knees to her chest. "C-Chara?"

The silence returned, that dull and cold silence thick and unbearable all around her.

The darkness came back in full force, swallowing all light. Swallowing all good.

And with it went Frisk's hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in ages ;-; I promise I'm gonna finish this story. School's just been really crazy, and I've been procrastinating the story a bit, I will admit ^^; But this story will be finished, no doubt about that.
> 
> Also, since this is a short chapter (I know, I tried to make it longer, especially since I hadn't updated in a long time), the next chapter will be longer and will have more answers (lol, but that just means more questions, haha).
> 
> LOL, I loved writing this line: "hissing and growling." I just imagine Flowey acting like a freaking rabid dog, while the skeleton is like: unimpressed.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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